…
Fridays used to be fun,
and that was it, fun,
It appears to be slipping, going and gone,
This very moment abhors dreams, goals and what we thought was the future.
Shrivelled, even with consciousness,
Chipped at, even with deliberations,
and actions and motions and steps and assurances,
seeing the world race against the journey,
but the journey must have been made.
Home is truly where the heart is.