“Mondays without colour, what a drag!” Gun Roswell

Pink for Monday

Yesterdays reflected

From old discarded windows

An old shack

Once painted black

Now boasting, the colour pink

It’s an eye sore some say

But others, smile and

In front of it for a moment stay

It’s not useful anymore

Who knows what secrets

Within it are stored

But for now, the windows

And the doors

Remain locked of course

And maybe someday

You may find the key

Which unlocks them all