Gone

My energy is draining
From my weary toes
My passion is flowing freely
From my broken nose
My good grace is completely missing
I’ve not seen it for some time
My outlook is defeatist
When once it was sublime
Where did my passion go?
I need it, need it now
My shoulder’s bruised and bleeding
Pushing this old plough
What I need is a tonic
A serum from the shelf
For God forbid that I should ever
Try to help myself