And, in your mind, prevails a peace
You think must feel like death –
As if, at last, you’ve found release
And draw no other breath.
It used to be your head was full
Of thoughts, ideas and aims,
But, nowadays, you sense the pull
To quit such silly games.
You wonder if this comes with age –
As if it’s your reward
For having turned the final page
Before becoming bored.
And yet you know you’re far from dead,
And so you get up out of bed.
Photo by Luke Stackpoole on Unsplash
Stillness
