“Tired” Poem


By: Ashley O’Hare

I’m just so tired

no matter how much I get to sleep.

My head is still aching;

my stomach feels too weak.

Why can’t I go back in time?

My younger self knew so much more.

Now, in my old age,

crawling out of bed is an unnecessary chore.

There is no magical cure—

I have searched high and low for years.

I’m running out of hope to hold onto.

All I have to my name is a gallon of tears.

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