Poem -

Sunday bloody Sunday

Sunday bloody Sunday

Oh ye shout out “Hallelujah” as the sabbath serenades a sombre song

Whence the seventh day of that cycle has came on strong

Aghast is our timelessness yet the clock cannot be wrong

Still spiralling yon seconds spinning on and on..

And Sunday bloody Sunday should be a day of rest

Though I wither like the weather on a monotony quest

For I seek out no religion to be truly blest

Sunday forever feels like a tiresome test..

 

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Comments

author
Greg Etsell

awww sorry you feel you feel 
like that about sunday its not 
like it was in the old days 
 

Reply
author
Jill Tait

Ay I always find Sunday a dismal kinda day 🤣❤️💕💔

Reply
author
Marion

It's Monday for me...and Tuesday, and Wednesday, and....😆😆😆💞

Reply
author
Jill Tait

Pml well I don’t like Moday much either like 🤣❤️💕❤️

Reply
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