I am really tired today.

Just really, really tired.

Slept all night, woke up late, and I’m still tired today.

Wanted to be a good boy.

Write a good NaNoWriMo entry.

But I’m just so tired, so very tired.

That I can’t do it today.

Why did god curse me with exhaustion?

Why can’t I play past midnight?

I just want to have some fun,

so why am I so tired?

My friend suggested I do a freestyle poem,

and I wanted to save this for a later date.

But exhaustion claims me today,

so I chose to do this now.

Oh Lord, why did you curse me so?

Is it to punish me for my hubris?

Believing sleeping past twelve is acceptable?

I merely wished to play more Cyberpunk,

because writing consumes so much time.

If I was given the same choice,

I would not take the same route.

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I wanted to do more,

to work, to chat, to game.

But I’m just too tired,

to even sit up straight.

Oh Lord, why did you curse me so?

To teach me about my grandfather’s pain?

To know how he feels whenever he groans?

My ADHD is kicking in,

because I’m thinking about something else again.

Thinking about the future, dinner, and love,

wondering what to do tomorrow.

Is there an easier way to meet your lover?

To be found and embraced by them?

I’ve tried so many times,

yet I’m still lost in a maze.

I’m tired today,

in terms of my body, my heart, and mind.

I wish I needed nothing,

because then I wouldn’t wish for anything.

To desire, to fear, to claim.

What a terrible, terrible game.

To be human, to be mortal,

is to be an utter fool.

I have no idea where this is going,

and I’m just writing what comes to mind.

But I feel pretty good,

even if I can’t devise good rhymes.

I wonder how long this poem will go,

or if it’s still a poem at all.

Free style or not,

rhyming or not,

I have no idea how to write a poem.

So I dedicate this poem to Yang,

my bestest chum buddy pal.

Who’ll read this poem I wrote,

and hopefully he’ll smile.

I feel much better now,

but I think it’s time for an end.

I don’t know how to close a poem,

so