Just Tired.

Tired.

People notice.

My expression. My demeanor.

So, like good people do, they ask me how I am.

I'm fine.

Just tired.

But they don't look any deeper than that. 

They found the answer they searched for. 

But if they were to break through the bedrock

They'd see just what it is that I'm tired of.

Tired of life.

Wandering through like a child lost in a misty wood.

I'd give anything for a purpose. 

Somewhere to head towards.

I'm tired of those people who say they'll help

They stay with me, guide me to what I think is the light at the end of the tunnel.

But instead of leading me the right way

They leave me, alone and more confused than ever. 

They say to go one direction, and then dash down a separate path.

So I make the journey, trusting myself alone.

And I trip.

I trip and fall, down, down. 

Down into a hole, filled with chilly water

I sit there and shiver violently, wondering how I'll get out.

I'm alone in that hole, but I can see the son.

It shines down on me always. 

My only comfort, my only guide. 

But

It does get lonely in that hole sometimes.