Trigger Warning
Wednesdays it’s raining solidly, the sky is dour and gray,
About the place that makes me so miserable, yet still I stay.
They follow with fuss, their words used only as a shield,
While lazy boys get lazier out in the empty field.
Habitat but not natural, walls hum a hollow tune,
Like bees swarming endlessly beneath a weeping moon.
This isn’t right, there has to be a better way,
But I wake and walk the same old road each weary day.