Day to Mundane Day

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In the quiet hum of morning

the sun stretches, yawns

and spills golden light

on the cracked pavement

where the world moves

slowly, like molasses


Tea brews

its steam curling like whispers

while the clock ticks-

each second a reminder

of the mundane rhythm

the pulse of routine


I walk the same path

past the old oak tree

its branches swaying

a silent witness

to my uneventful journey

the familiar faces

the nods exchanged

as if to say

"Here we are again."


The office hums to life

keyboards click like raindrops

filling the air with purpose

yet the words feel like echoes

a script I've memorized

and though time moves

the days blend

painted in shades of gray


Lunch is a sandwich

the crusts left behind

while thoughts drift

caught in the web of routine

wondering what lies beyond

the horizon of this daily grind


Evening settles in

the sky ablaze with colors

but I close the curtains

wrap myself in the comfort

of predictability

where chaos is a distant storm

and the mundane

is a warm embrace


Tomorrow will come

another cycle

another round of the same

and yet, in this stillness

I find a quiet beauty

in the simple act of being

in the grace of the ordinary

where life unfolds

in its unremarkable way



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