Am I too young to be world weary? It is too much to ask to be passed by sometimes? Who deems it alright to have a little cry every once in a while, and not be judged? How many times will I be able to stand up again? Can't I be content to sit on the ground for a while, looking at the passing feet? Some morning are easier to wake up to, and some days are just nicer to pass through. Today doesn't seem to be one of them.
Sometimes it is just enough to couch my day in bland enough terms to not sound like a lot of complaining, even though every one reading will know that's what I am actually doing. Complaining is such a strong word though, it is correct? Or is discouragement just more apt? I am not sure... but I am sure that I am ready for tomorrow--already.
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