A Monday sky,
Work-like eyes, with a cloak of dark cloud.
Rain in the air, brooding
Dead calm, no wind, silently loud
To a dark day, alluding.
A Monday sky,
A speck so high, solitary bird,
I wish Seagull, gliding,
Free, not a care, not a word,
I wish Seagull, I wish Friday.
A Monday sky,
Job-like cries, uttered from 9-5 people,
Heads down, grinding
Biting their tongues,
fearful
Their well trodden paths long, dutiful, winding.
A Monday sky,
With the letters W.O.R.K written clearly, and precisely.
But me? I can run
This Monday won't get a slice of me,
We can write , we can dream, we can be, be anything, anyone.
Come run with me?
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