Weekend, with sadness,
with nostalgia and bitterness.
Weekend ... A sentence,
loneliness and madness.
Crying alone in March,
for another March of some years,
feel the mind as entangled,
look at the time, wash my face.
Look at the sun through the window,
to dye red, all souls ...
I go to church and pray a little,
I come to my house to eat alone.
And Sunday arrives and everything ends ...
Thank you for reading my publications, vote and leave your comment.
The image was taken from the web.
Break away from cycles that may lock you into a static path. Change is the only constant force in this world. Thanks for the poem, keep it up.
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