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
YOU ARE READING
Villainized
PoesiaVillainized is a collection of poems that delves into my personal hell and the struggles I've faced. I am not the hero of my narrative; a minor side-character? Perhaps. The villain? Maybe. The interpretation is yours to decide.