The Grind

Eyelids heavy under the weight of sleeplessness
Body shaped by forty years
Mind wrestling itself for peace
Hands weary from too much typing
Housework undone while children play

Selah.

Lift my eyelids, give me sleep
Contentment, too, for how I look
Rest my mind that wanders so
Keep my hands from wearying
And let me let myself play today

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