It’s just a long day. It’s just tiredness,
But jaded eyes don’t see a way out.
The body beat brutally by restlessness,
But pride keeps shushing bitter mouth.
The mallet of circumstance crushed
The bones; the hopes; the silly faith.
The spirit ruined, grinded to mush,
I fell like favorite trouble’s bait.
The day will end. I will survive,
I’ll do the job, head held up high.
But it’s today – I shake, scream, cry;
Wishing just to roll over and die.
Unoriginal (love) noteS 
That dreaded mallet of circumstance. No matter how many times I duck out of the way, it always finds my head. Loved the poem.
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Thank you. Yes, that mallet…but no matter how crushed the head becomes it’s important to remember as long there is air in the lungs one can stand up and move on.
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An important reminder. Much appreciated.
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Glad to provide it
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It’s a day later…Did you survive?
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Yes, I did. Thank you.
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