Sod it.

Sod it.

Keep practicing it is all I have.

Tiredness kills

So it doth say

At the roadside

In very large font

Easy to see

Unless asleep at the wheel

It might prove true

Every day it takes

A little more effort

Just to keep moving

The muscular aches

Dig deeper

Hamstrings

Draw tighter

Legs feel less springy

Each step an exercise

Of will

The seat is softer

More comfortable

Than it used to be

Harder to resist

Easier to drift off

To sleep in the middle

Of the day

Like his Dad

Which makes him sad

He fell asleep at the drop

Of a hat

He had held out the hope

It would never come

To that

But lately

Keeping busy

Is effortful

Perhaps it is true

In its own inimitable way

Using stealth

To undermine

His worn veneer

Of determination

Eventually,

Tiredness kills.