Monotony Cast Down

Monotony is fragile—
Waiting to be torn apart by rough, worn hands
Which grope restlessly, trying to release color
And even pain.
They are insistent that even tired, unsightly fingers and palms know instinctively
What all things knew at the beginning:
That beauty exists,
That long nights on wrinkled sheets watching bad television
Are just a fabric,
Thin, washed too many times
Waiting for the final tear
So it can at last be discarded
For something thicker. More substantial.

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~obscured
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Great words to describe a Saturday, without a phone call from a friend. A long day that never ends. You walk alone in the mall, no one even notices you. You feel like a ghost sitting in a restaurant, another meal alone. )))Peacefrog
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So others have these days too? I've often thought that it really isn't the highs and lows that break us. It is the monotony. This poem says it well.
sg
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So others have these days too? I've often thought that it really isn't the highs and lows that break us. It is the monotony. This poem says it well.
sg
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really nice work, there is light in it. raul