Admitting Defeat
I’m tired of ironing out the creases
from the same screwed up old shirt
That you so carelessly sling in the corner
Efforts wasted,
the metal blisters me with hurt
I’m tired of hoping the sun still rises
When your storms bring more bad weather
I’m tired of trying to keep the pages of this book binded
When you can’t even string a sentence together
I’m tired of being passive
A feather caught up in a breeze
I’m ready to anchor roots now
And grow taller like the trees
I’m tired of banging my head
Against the crumbling, worn, stone brick
I’m too tired to keep on sleeping
I’ve woken up to the last of your tricks
Copyright © Lucy Harley | Year Posted 2019
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