Tuesday tired from the weekend
Not the beginning and not the middle
Tired from the weekend
Unusual start to a day
Essentially true but we mourn our time off.
Day of melancholy and memories
Asleep but still fresh there in our grasp.
Yearning back for them.
Tell again what happened!
Imagine what could have been.
Resettle slowly in the day at hand,
Events only ever Tuesday related.
Decisions start to be made.
Frowning all day,
Resenting the world around us.
On a hope, we live
Moments of despair on this day
We seek something else,
Elevated to paradise
Engaged in today with the tip of our toes
Kneading the day to prod it to life.
About the Creator
Jeannine Kauffmann
Poetry writer in the early morning. Poetry as a wake up call. Then later I draw lines and colours. I have a page on Instagram my art other than words although it contains words too. Titles are important to finish a piece like a full stop.
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