Tired and weary limbs,
How with fatigue they ache,
When will this busy life,
Let me have a break?
What happened to those days,
Where tired was just a word,
And exhaustion was a description,
Practically unheard,
Waking up every morning,
Used to be enlivening,
But now I can hardly move,
Let alone from my bed spring,
My wrists are always throbbing,
My head seems to weigh a ton,
And although my back is hurting,
My work is not yet done,
When it's finally time for sleep,
I toss restlessly,
Thoughts hunt down my yawning mind,
Sleep is not easy,
What happened to my passion,
My passion for being alive?
Now I just blankly note,
That yes, I still survive. |