Drained

I lie motionless with no strength
Nor will to drive my fragile body

I am trapped by the confines of my bed
Left with lots of time but no verve to think

My eyes are normally windows to the great outdoors
Yet the view before me remains very much static

Dawn, noon then dusk and still no change
I can only hope the monotony goes with the day

Night rises alongside my unwavering boredom
Still I lie with too little energy to sleep

If joy really comes with the morning time
I shall have to wait until the next sunrise

By Pete Scopes