Weekend, with sadness,
with nostalgia and bitterness.
Weekend ... A sentence,
loneliness and madness.
Crying alone in March,
for another March of some years,
feel the mind as entangled,
look at the time, wash my face.
Look at the sun through the window,
to dye red, all souls ...
I go to church and pray a little,
I come to my house to eat alone.
And Sunday arrives and everything ends ...
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