Monday came again

Monday came again,
the same, and the
tired hours dragged
with sorrowful mind.

Every second counted,
with recurring tick,
the darkest thoughts
that refused to leave.

Morning passed, slow,
Mourning for the sun
as it shone beyond the glass
that trapped weather inside.

Eyes struggled and
remained dry in the heat,
Humid, the box of books
shivered with myriad dreams.

Monday came again,
the same, and the
tired hours dragged
with sorrowful mind.

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