Tired Poem

Jim Murdoch

I’m tired. Well, weary.

I’m always tired so I guess that’s redundant.

Like saying I’m male.

I’m always male though not always masculine.

I didn’t start off male.

It could’ve gone either way. It wasn’t a given

Tiredness however…

Not sleepiness. Done-in-ness. Worn-out-ness.

The day you wake up

and your first thought is, “Shit, I’m still alive.”

I remember that day,

the first day sleep stopped doing it for me.

That was an eye-opener.

AUTHOR BIO

Jim Murdoch has been writing poetry for fifty years and has graced the pages of many now-defunct literary magazines and websites and a few, like Ink, Sweat and Tears and Poetry Scotland that are still hanging on in there. For ten years he ran the literary blog The Truth About Lies but now lives quietly in Scotland with his wife and, whenever the mood takes him, next door’s cat. He has published two books of poetry, a short story collection and four novels: Jim, not the cat.