I am tired.
I am tired of being force-fed lullabies
By those who have forgotten how to sing them.
I feel as though I am immune
But what do I know?

I am tired.
I am tired of those who long to sleep being kept awake
By those who close their eyes easily every night.
They feel as thought they can carry on
But what do they know?

I am tired.
I am tired of wanting to protect those whose eyes are pink with exhaustion
But discovering that I, too, am wiping the sleep from my eyes.
They tell me I lie
But what do they know?

I am tired.
I am tired of saying that I will change,
That I will pull the blanket over those who have had it ripped from their grasp,
That I will sing the lullabies that have gone unsung for far too long,
That I will stay awake while others finally get the chance to sleep.
I tell myself I am wrong
But what do I know?