Rest

Rest. We all could use it, everyone wants to choose it. Seldom do we ever, instead we just abuse it.

I’m just an angry womping willow at night, who stays exhausted and far removed from my pillow at night.

All hours of the night do I think deep. Night owls like me can never think sleep.

Overworked everyday and unable to rest my head at night. I have no relationship with my bed at night.

I can’t take the heat. Even when there’s pain in my legs and feet I’m unable to take a seat.

When I close my eyes I’m dizzy. Even in the fictional world of my dreams I’m still busy.

No time to hang with my family or chat with my neighbors. Just an endless task of trying to complete my labor.

I’m always crying inside because the pain of overworking with no rest feels like I’m dying inside.

A lifetime of insomnia is what I’m facing. Sweet rest I’m never tasting because all hours of the night my mind is racing.

If I don’t get rest I’ll work myself to death or atleast until I’m out of breath with nothing left.

I like working hard and doing my best, but I can’t stress enough how much I need to rest.