Tired Heart
The broken glass cuts me as it falls to the floor...
Perhaps a slight pain in my chest; maybe more...
My arm goes numb; is that OK?
Just leave me alone here where I lay...
It's so hard to breathe in this thick air...
Please help me up to sit in the chair...
Don't call 911 or make a fuss...
A hospital seems so superfluous...
It's probably nothing; I'll be alright...
Just go away! Sorry to be impolite...
I'll go see a doctor if my pain gets worse...
At the very least, I'll go see the nurse...
Where are you going? Can't you see my distress?
I have people to see and sins to confess...
My heart is giving; can't you see?
Promise to bury me under the old oak tree...
Copyright © Darrell Hoover | Year Posted 2016
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