I'm tired of trying -
effort put into excess ends
never providing planned intent.
Is there any point in pretend
once the magic has been spent?
Do repeat attempts bend stringent
or do they just melt into nothing?
I'm tired of giving myself
to elements that won't address,
that won't present outside surface,
that just dwell in self-indulgence.
I'm tired of trying
to find diamonds among glass.
Where is the purpose in demand
when traversing barren lands?
What reason is there
to continue this torment?
Is it time to concede collapse
and return to the beaten path
where all the beaten stand?
When the tired are done trying
will the fates then be kind?
Or will they scream endless
unheard without audience?
For here I am in permanence,
Hoarse voice shouting wild,
"I am tired of trying!"
YOU ARE READING
Simply Poetry
PoetryA collection of poems by Sean Arturo Last. You are encouraged to leave your interpretations in the comments. -- © All Rights Reserved (No unauthorized copy, distribution, transmission, or alteration of the work.)
