Prose

by Polby Saves


Mid- afternoon shadows, casting onto cheaply painted walls,
Have always given me the doldrums
A depression really, that doesn't lift
Till the sun finally sets
Then it's merely a despondency
that starts to slowly relent
Much after Mid- night
Then I can start to sleep until,
The next day when it starts all over again.
The reason nothing WORTHWHILE gets done
I like to think.


Polby Saves
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