Mondaycholia

Snap up the sunlight,
Hollow in the wanting wood.
A clean shore break of reality,
Burdened with frustration,
Tied-down to routine–
Measured in long hours,
Spent up and crossed in thought,
A reckless hatred of daylight.
Abused and down,
How quickly the weeds grow.
Sitting in misery,
Void of empty desires,
The harrowing bell-chime–
Of the dark to follow.
Away with reason–
The time still burns.

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