After The Pause

Maybe the world ended quietly in twenty-twenty's air,

Not with fire or sound, just a shift no one could repair.

Time lost its rhythm, the clock learned to bend,

Days blur together with no clear end.

News reads hollow, voices feel staged,

Truth trimmed down to fit on a page.

Each week weighs more than before,

Like ten full years pressed into four.

A global stop came, streets stood still,

Then engines restarted without fixing the spill.

Hustle came back wearing the same old mask,

Demanding speed, demanding task.

Even food costs peace of mind,

Simple choices feel unkind.

Everyone's tired down to the core,

Calling it "adulting" to explain the sore.

This isn't the hell with flame or cell,

No devil, no gate, no warning bell.

This is the unkind built on endless forms,

Updates, passwords, quiet norms.

No closure offered, no chapter closed,

Just moving forward while feeling exposed.

Something important slipped through the seam,

A missing piece from the shared routine.

So you move slower, more aware each day,

Question the rules instead of obey.

Choose rest on purpose, name what feels wrong,

Refuse to pretend this pace is strong.

If the world broke and kept marching on,

Staying human becomes the calm.

Not acting normal, not playing pretend,

But building sense where systems bend.