Predictable

Predictable

By: Medha V.

A never-ending cycle

All the days blurred and blending

Yet somehow

I stay depending

Call me condescending

But these long days

These minutes of hours

That makes my eyes so subtly glaze

The Sundays with the same mug

The Mondays with a never-ending cycle

Give solace

The haze of time

That feels almost lawless