Day 7 of my review of the last twelve months and a poem about losing the rat race
Is this your bridal gown
Or a burial shroud?
The worries of the world
Weighing you down.
The nine to five heartache
Of another Monday commute.
Saturday morning, five more minutes
Under the covers,
Seems like a lifetime away.
A smudge of mascara,
Congealed with sleep, in the corner of your eye.
Difficult to tell apart
From the soot and pollution down here
In this metropolitan underworld.
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.