Tiredness, dullness
Again excess takes its toll
Always an irritation
Calls for the scrape of movement
Always the failure
Of concentration provides my escape
I am a fake
Of contemplation
Which itself
Is beyond my state of comprehension
I am out of tune
In mind and body, I am flaked
Rest for rests sake
May be the only stake-able cure
This is a poem from Vagaries:
Love of The Key to Room 149