beaten into defeat,
worn and torn, his
body cannot go on.
he leans into himself,
gathers the strength to
breathe out a sigh, and
tucks his sullen demeanor
into his pockets.
two more shifts before
night’s end.
will he make it?
can he make it?
he doesn’t know, but
he will try.
that’s all that’s left
of him.
A Cornered Gurl 
I could feel the tiredness through your words, lovely take on the image ❤
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Yes! This resonates so much with me!
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Your words bring movement to the weight of the world on his weary shoulders.
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Thank you, Barry. I love this painting. I was hoping that I did it justice. I hope I did.
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No need to hope, friend. You did it. 🙂
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*bows in total acceptance of your words* Thank you, Barry.
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He certainly captured the essence of how we have all felt at times! Today it may be called “Knackered.”
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Haha. A few of my UK friends use the term “knackered” a lot. I like it. The word, that is, not the fact that they’re often knackered. 🙂
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It originated from the term for a horse slaughterer, a Knacker. When a horse was unfit for any further work it was sent to the knacker’s yard for slaughter and disposal. Hence “He’s only fit for the knackers yard” when someone was tired out or useless!
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Good grief! Okay, that brief history lesson there has made me change my mind about liking the word a bit. *shudders*
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