Poetry, Maybe...

Weary Days

The fatigue is real and never ending.

There are times when I feel like my skin is crawling.

My eyelids are so heavy, they pause when I blink;

Yet, they never seem to stay closed when I lie down at night.

Morning comes too fast, my hand finding the snooze button one…..two….three times.

As I struggle to pull myself out of bed and stand upright,

I hold my arms out horizontal to the floor in an attempt to stop the room from spinning.

Another day started,

Too many meetings and not enough hours in the work day

Another day, drags on,

Stuck in conversations I don’t want to be in

Another day ends,

Too many things left undone.

Not enough time in the day

To do the things I want to do, instead of the things I have to do.