An Honest Read

Hard to write an honest comment, When one's just too bone tired. A demanding day has finally ended, Just numb after what's transpired. It just wouldn't be fair or right, Looking through poems than at them. To rush comments of pure bullshit, It's more respectful to keep mum. But tomorrow will be different, The rain keeping visitors at bay. Then I'll leave the museum early, And escape a long frustrating day. For in the hours of early evening, Rather than those long of late. I'll be refreshed and clear headed, For poems to read and evaluate.