Dysania

Ria Naidu

Hong Kong

The curtains were drawn,

Not a speck of light to be seen amongst the shade

And strewn with pillows and blankets

Remained an unkempt bed

She unfurled her somnolent body

Upon the mattress on which she laid

Letting out a long exasperated sigh

She was filled with a sense of dread

To retire from the solace of one’s bed

Seemed almost unbearable

Yet to turn a blind eye to one’s commitments

Was most definitely disgraceful 

Weary-eyed and worn out

She attempted to make her way to the dressing table 

Only even a task as effortless as this

Seemed like such a handful 

She collapsed back into the catastrophic mess

That she referred to as her bed
And tugged on her filthy woolen blanket

So that it would cover her head

“Today is just not my day,”

She despairingly said.

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