rest

it's funny when you're tired everything becomes a chore
from the breathing to the talking to the walking out the door
and the breeze feels like a love song though the tune is not the same
and the tuna tastes like daisies in a golden yellow chain
when praying's an excuse to find a time to close your eyes
and your friends are speaking softly but you hear them sing out more
then a shoulder aches and heart grows faint as to the closing shut
your eyelids droop and threaten sleep before you've finished up.