Mundane Mondays giving way
to Tuesdays un-waiting
As weary Wednesdays
unwilling to fall in line
Or hear Thursdays
constantly bickering Fridays
busy feigning, courting Saturdays
lost in the love of Sundays
already betrothed to Mondays
since infancy
Middle of the day
of any in the week
If I were to open my eyes
and stare hard and deep
in the face of any moment
Would I find cues
If I am to feel
overworked,
tired or resigned,
joyous or blessed?
tethered to routine,
sentenced to live
yet another day,
yet another week?
Or simply savour
the joy of cruising
through the week
punching holes
in paper-thin eternity
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