Another Day

Today was just another day when I inhaled the same air, in the same room, on the same bed. I was confused about my plans but that is how it was suppose to be. A book and a phone was all I had when I needed a friend and a bottle of beer. Sunday is a funday as people claim it to be. But the fun lacked today like the stinky smell clinging to the cover of a perfume bottle, a cover which can never have a smell. I walked with a fractured leg to the balcony. Where my eyes spotted a couple of friends sitting on vehicles and gossiping. I too wished to be a part of such a group of friends but, I guess it is my mistake for, I am too scared of getting betrayed by a friend I would make.
Dull and sad, covered with smile exactly like the dust and cobwebs cover a rotten place, I came back to the same room and inhaled the same air on the same bed.
Kenneth ©

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