“These times, make me so tired” Gun Roswell

Tired

It’s so hard to get up
I try to resist the huff and puff
Looking out the window, wishing I wasn’t here
Rather someplace nice, over there

Even on this silent Sunday
I know this is not my day
For I am feeling sick and tired
Not creative or even inspired

The same ol same ol awaits
Doing all the things I love to hate
The only cheer for me the pictures
From a happier time far in the past

I know deep inside this feeling won’t luckily last
But dwelling on it for a moment I gasp
And then after a few passing hours
I get up, and once again, somehow, feel within, the lost power

And, yeah baby, I’m back again
As the cliche strikes and then I smile
It’s been a long while
But for now, that’ll do just fine