The Specific Sadness of a Sunday Evening

By Saywisely

1 min read Jun 23, 2024
The sun dips low, a final gleam,
Disturbing a weekend dream.
The air grows thick, the light grows thin,
And lets the coming Monday in.

A quiet weight, a gentle dread,
For all the words that must be said.
The laundry's folded, clean and neat,
A small and bittersweet defeat.

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