4a.m. on a Monday

It’s 4a.m. on a Monday.

The roads are quiet, nothing is on.

Been staring at the broken line.

Where the past is never gone.

And you know it’s not too pleasant.

And that’s where my head goes.

But I never stay too long.

A rolling stone where no moss grows.

There is caffeine in the café.

The cat still has a purr.

The kid she sleeps so peacefully.

And at daybreak, all will stir.

The future holds all meaning.

Don’t know which way it will go.

But if I have learned anything.

It’s best that you don’t know.

Dennis Mantin

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