fauxcroft

My day is always a long one

Starts early, ends late when I am then done,

Too tired to do anything else

Except sit on the sofa and dwell,

Before I finally drift off

What kind of life is this,

Simply trying to exist,

And my muscles ache

And my bones are hurting,

But I’ve no choice but to keep on working,

And I guess this is what we define as life.