Endless dark circles
Under my eyes,
Questions and prods
Which I despise.
"How was your day?"
And then I'm bound
To tell them "fine",
If not, they always go around.
Laying there, beaten down.
No more energy left to frown.
Tired days, sleepless nights.
I will never win this fight.
Missing work, left undone,
All that's left to do is run.
To depressed to even move,
I've got nothing left to prove.
This is the end, there is no more.
Please just show me to the door.
YOU ARE READING
Drabble
PoetryA collection of random stuff composed of poems, collections of thought, and other miscellaneous stuff. Do not expect anything too extravagant because I write most of these on a whim and hardly ever revise them. My apologies. If something stands out...
