Sunday evening

The cafes are all bare on Sunday evening
Awkward silences and a stare on Sunday evening.

You’ll find this odd but all weekend I think
Just how will I fare on Sunday evening?

The smell of gloomy expectation lingers low in the tram
When I step out for fresh air on Sunday evening.

Do they actually dim the lights, make them go pale
My eyes don’t find it fair on Sunday evening.

The world comes at you thick and fast
Warm comforts are rare on Sunday evening.

Emotional eating can easily go out of hand
They ask me to take care on Sunday evening.

They’ve read my message it seems, but haven’t responded yet
I have no emotions to spare on Sunday evening.

Stars slide off my sky tonight,
The moon and I despair on Sunday evening.

I come back to you and breathe your calm
A sweet caress I wear on Sunday evening.

There’s more out there feeling how you feel Apoorva
Would they lay it bare on Sunday evening?

(Edited: April 2017)