Tired. A poem.

I’m tired.

And my drifting aimless gaze
settles on a distant mist-like haze
that wells up continuously inside,
like savage, misplaced pride,
and makes me drop like a stone
into waters unknown.
Lost on cruel tides that wend
the capitulating ocean to its end.

So tired.

If only sleep could solve this quandary,
instead of leaving me on the periphery
of a world that spins aimlessly,
through head space and trickery,
and leaves me wanting nothing less.
And nothing more.

Just tired.

Time to leave this place.

Steve is a literal starving artist.
Please keep the dream of poetry alive by supporting his worthy cause.

Steve’s first book of poetry, The All or the Nothing, is available now as an e-book from most online distributors. For more information,
click here.

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