The burning of eyes late in the afternoon.Longing for those convivial feelings,One knows exists in the distance of time.Friday is what all say the day is calledYet this feels untrue untill the day itself is near its end.A waste?The day waited on for so long.A silence comes across the room whenThis thought enthralls the mind.Such joy in the morning!Yet one feels nothing near thisUntil late late in the afternoon.
Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 5:12 AM UTC
The burning of eyes late in the afternoon.Longing for those convivial feelings,One knows exists in the distance of time.Friday is what all say the day is calledYet this feels untrue untill the day itself is near its end.A waste?The day waited on for so long.A silence comes across the room whenThis thought enthralls the mind.Such joy in the morning!Yet one feels nothing near thisUntil late late in the afternoon.