it is seven o’ five

feeling barely alive

the day is done

should be reveling in

the warmth of

summer sun,

and yet all i want to do

is crawl into bed

pull the covers over

my throbbing head

and shut the world out

i have no doubt

it will keep turning

whether i lie awake or sleep

safe at home i unmask,

despite shadows prowling,

feasting upon my past

words of love have grown dim

slumber now for tomorrow shall too soon begin

Photo by Jairo Alzate on Unsplash