on a Sunday
On a Sunday?
it had been a hot night
when morning broke
the sun was multi-colored
the day was born
and incomprehensively
naïve
thinking it was powerful
and not a mirror
of human activity
It hoped to stay till evening
no such luck
and slowly fade
admired by its paleness
the fog of night
takes no prisoner of days
abort, was hollered
so ignorant
think it could kill the unborn
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