I’m Tired.

Tired of my legs buckling,

of Temptation’s chuckling,

of ripping my boot from a mix

of Thick mud and my own blood.

I’m Tired.

Tired of escaping each rut,

only to fall in another,

of adding to my count of cuts,

of how stress ceaselessly smothers!

I’m Tired.

Tired of how caked blood mud feels on my skin,

Tired of how I fall however I begin,

Tired of the fruitless strife,

Tired of the lack of life,

Tired of saying Tired,

Tired. So very Tired,

with no Time to rest.

The End

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