LYRIC

Monday morning
Is not a point in time
It's a punishment
For some forgotten crime
Tuesday came
As no surprise
Just to witness
My demise
Wednesday made
No sense at all
Spent Thursday waiting
For night to fall

A week straight, a week bent
Extremely unpleasant

A week came, a week went
A week spent without intent
Don't know why or what it meant

Friday passes
Slower than a stoned snail
Gave me gasses
Left a slimey trail
Saturday was soaked
In passive stress
In madness

In darkness
On Sunday I realise
Only one day remain
Then I'm back
To Monday again

A week meant to annoy me
A week sent to destroy me

A week lived, a week less
A week built on weakness
Omnipresent pointlessness

A bleak weak is not unique
A bleak weak, not worth exploring
A bleak weak is worth ignoring
A week lame beyond boring

Below depression is my norm
I've turned boredom into an artform
Therefore I quit before I start
I turn boredom into art

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