Irreconcilable  
Negative
Suffering
Ornate
Morbid
Never-ending  
Intense
Alone

When you're a child,
Life is in technicolor
But as you grow older
A film of grey gradually wears the color away
Dampening your senses
Until your synapses weaken, burdened by drudgery

You become all mind
Deciphering all of the time
Caged by contemplation,
Causing a slow soul erasure

I want to feel what it's like to be a child again
To be fully present and aware of every felt sensation
But my body is tired,
And with fatigue the mind becomes a narrowed point
Of seeking to meet the most basic of needs:
Work, Sleep, Eat
On an endless rotation,
Leaving no time for child-like play.

in this rest and relax
the little time that we have
emoting life in a forward move
monday comes one day too soon

with clear memories kept
spilling harshly from our laps
far too fast to catch what we lose
monday comes one day too soon

grabbing at the last days straw
not wanting to let one iota go
from what we'd done to the planned to do
monday comes one day too soon

weekend time is the fastest of rides
minutes wave to seconds pulled out by the tide
no control on the speed that it moves
monday comes one day too soon