I awe at the many ‘tireds’ of this life.
Not just the kind when every cell in your body yearns for relief,
But the tiredness from never truly being at peace.
Fatigue that sees your knees buckle if to stand but one more moment,
Amidst the weariness of a constant stream; an endless current.
Not only the subdue of torment that comes after a long day,
Also the anguish in your heart to never know if things will be okay.
Besides the ache in one’s bones from an arduous load,
Here too, the heaviness that weighs on a broken soul.
Not merely the exhaustion that delegates each word a chore,
Yet the pique that you can simply do no more.
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