Poem

***

It makes me sick

These casual thursdays

Half day off

No Time to Breath

****

It always make me sick

to run into the void and emptyness

a regular madness

day lost day forgotten

****

So far I'm still sick

of the forgiveness of such identity

and friday is just like monday

Sing for them days

Poem written for Web Design 1 class by Simon O'Reilly