Today is Saturday

Poet of the word sharp sword 
some surface scratches. 
Neon lights are always shining through the night 
it is the ABC. 

A pulsating stream of life, 
no R-kiosk. 

Fuming ailing heart in my chest, 
desperate flame of life. 
I go to this day to travel. 

Thursday full of hope, 
Friday strikes fearlessness. 

Today is Saturday, and laziness sweeps 
the garbage under the carpet. 
Tomorrow again on Sunday, I will hide my grief, 
I do not show it to the world. 
Sometimes it arrives again on Monday 
it gets impatient 
week to start, 
do not have time to stay under the covers 
to sleep.