Pathetic Pens Write Pathetic Promises

But I'll keep mine.
I promise.

All I have is a hand
And a pen
To hold in it,
And fingers to move that pen,
And a mind that is too tired
To make these lines rhyme.

I'm running out of ink,
So I'll use a pencil instead,
And fashion these tired ideas
Out of lead.
They will sink because
I've written them so many times
Before.

There's a release in working
And checking off each item
On a list, like relieving a burden
That ceases to exist.
Until the next time.

So whenever you feel like
You can't do it
Anymore,
Or like you are so tired,
And so tired of being tired,
And like the burden on your shoulders
Is heavier than the lead
In your pencil,
Remember this:

All I have is a hand,
And a pen
To hold in it,
And fingers to move that pen.

That is all any of us have.

And I'm going to be okay.

And you're going to be okay too.

I promise.