Thursdays are static,
immoveable in bad ways,
and the worst of days.
My poor mind is full,
with thoughts and ideas,
that whirl about it.
Tired days hold me,
dragging me back again now,
and so wearisome.
As complex as simple is.
Thursdays are static,
immoveable in bad ways,
and the worst of days.
My poor mind is full,
with thoughts and ideas,
that whirl about it.
Tired days hold me,
dragging me back again now,
and so wearisome.