So it’s Monday

478px-elderly_woman__bw_image_by_chalmers_butterfield

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So it’s Monday and you’re back in your deed.
I’m still in bed, sleepy thinking how strange
someone like you met someone like me.

But then I leave bed to make my morning coffee
and watering my plants and out there is another
grey day I have no plans for. And I think how
strange someone like you met someone like me.

And you’re too busy to call me and I become
sitting at my window talking to myself with
my hands restless picking in my knee, low
as I’m too needy and your guilty conscience
and I think how strange someone like you
must have someone like me.

So it’s Monday as always, loving you. I’m lonely
as hell and look like a withered plant but yet I
think I should be loved as much as I loved you
and how strange someone like you met someone
like me.

Yes, how strange someone like you met someone
like me…

Bunker, Dennis Miller. Yellow Rose. c. 1887.

Bunker, Dennis Miller. Yellow Rose. c. 1887.

 

 

 

 

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This entry was posted in aging, create life, fictional story, poems, Poetry, walk of life, with or without you and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to So it’s Monday

  1. Anonymous says:

    I may found that a lot of people find themself relate to that poem . well done

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