“Sundays are the worst” Gun Roswell
Sunday, again!
Sunday has crept upon us again
It was just Friday a minute ago, then
This day turned up on the early morning clock
Without one single warning, we could not stop
The time from progressing further
No where to hide or turn there
Where we really wanted to go
Friday, and this time make it go slow
No more Sunday in the foreseeable future
This day, seems to be complete torture
A promise of silence and peace
A complete bliss and mind release
But what really happens on this day
Is the beginning of anxiety of the horrid Monday
When all freedom is ripped
And into the mundane rat race we are dipped
Where all hope goes to die
And our wings are clipped preventing us to fly
So why do I hate Sundays?
(Panic attack getting worse)
Because:
It’s the day next to Monday!!!
Rantings Of A Third Kind 