Wednesday Woes

An absence of living,
Is unforgiving,
To the days we bespeak,
Because one day,
A perished physique,
Will no longer cause fatigue,
And Wednesdays, will no longer,
Have a sense of belonging,
To the middle of the week.
Life has never lied to me.
Just like my reflection,
Has never been a reality.
I bore the face of Apathy,
And have lived happily.
I’ve watched how humanity,
Have been treated and cleansed radically
And have wondered
If my Wednesday Woes,
Qualifies as a woe.
So, excuse me if I say an absence of living,
Is unforgiving to the days of the week.
Because like an eternal return,
I believe,
Sombre Sundays are tone deaf to extending grace.
Because Woeful Wednesday have been taking up space.
Making Melancholic Monday lose faith.
I have wondered if Friendless Friday
Juxtaposes weal and woe
Making Wednesday Woe
Yet again,
The face of prose.

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