Oh sweet nightfall

is upon us once more

Head throbbing

As I open the door

Not what I dreamed of

When a young girl was born

Was not what I prayed for

when you walked through that door

Feet are blistered with callous and splits

Hands are wrinkled and dry with defeat

Hard work was an option

there is no other way

To continue to work hard

To the man I pay

So death will be freedom

For enslaved are we all

Eyes lowered with tears

Tired Will come afore

A coward am I

Death would be such peace

Then start again would I

From they I am released

 

3 thoughts on “Tired

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