Limbs that ache,they don’t break,just ache,
Arms with muscle fatigue,you don’t feel them,
Hands that are calloused,devoid of wanting a challenge,
That’s the tiredness of the physical,
But tiredness doesn’t just say that on the tin,
There is the mental fatigue,of thoughts,words,processes
Fingers worn out from reports,graphs,measure of success,
That’s the tiredness of the mental.
You see,each one has a tale to tell,
Each one has done their shift,
Their bread payment may differ,
The market forces send down their shiver,
But the tiredness is a sort of payment too.
From childhood I’ve noticed the tired,the weary,the exhausted,
Felt it too,from the physical,to the mental and emotion,
One tired tale isn’t worse or better,
Evelyn different,different ,different.
So rest up,all ye tired ones if you can,
Rest up from your labours,
Rest up in the safety of your slumber,
Rest from the emotional scares of abuse,
It’s not a sorrowful tale,
It’s just life,you see,
It’s the tale of how tiring life can be,
I’ll leave you be now,my tired one to your slumber
Sleep tight .