the dust and debris
off my
shoulders
and face
at the end of the day,
i stare
at the paint
on my hands,
the dirt beneath
my nails.
my eyes are red from
being weary.
i can hardly
take my boots off
as i fall
into the big chair.
do i have the energy
or strength
anymore
to go out and find love?
no,
i think those days
are over
at last.
it's almost a relief
as i think about food
and drink,
perhaps a book to read,
then sleep.
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