Tired

I am exhausted.

I wonder how to care for youngsters who don't care for themselves.

I wonder how to make them care.

I wonder how much more I can wonder. I wonder how much more I can care.

There are lotus buds, green tightness laced with pink. There is a wound in the clouds, light tearing through an opening.

There are books, Babel via Negativa, An American Lyric. There is a Kindle which isn't charged.

Items on the table, red pens, mobile adaptor, umbrella. Objects, many of them. 

My mind is about to shut down. My eyes refuses to stay open. It is 4.53 am.

So much happened. Too much. 

I should sleep but I am exhausted.
 

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