Life of A Monday

Life of a Monday
After every six he is born again
Bringing so much weight of glam and torture
He believes without him there's not sketch of a future
Hearing these words its monday again
With dull and tiring tones
Gave his stomach a huge churn
With no reason as to why his appearing is dreaded..
But sometimes he is a she
Scared to breathe
Fully aware that there are still dead trees in the midst of the green, but
Sh was the start of the green
It just made no sense how so many would dislike the feel of a new beginning.

Yet every man is free
But still  every man fears in his freedom
Still afraid to do what is right
Afraid to love what they have
So afraid to feel the wind of change
Yet unphased by it all change has now become a routine
One so familiar that it lives sometimes as us
Unable to discern why she has to be so dreaded by many
From how she felt hyped to be appearing
She just lives on like it doesn't matter if the world hates or not.
O poor Monday.


Yours truly MerciRick