Tired

I'm tired Fifty hours a week and that's if I take it easy. Garnishments and taxes, Sam takes it easy. When I get home I sit in the car and try to find peace. My hands are calloused along with my feet. Six hours till daybreak, no pay while sleep. I'm tired. I wear my smile like a veneer, a facade. My fear is that my eyes give away my disguise. Covered in shades, I self-prescribe. Swallow my pride like that red pill, verity. Yet I see no clarity, my reflex a parody. I'm tired