Published: 26 Jul 2026 › Updated: 26 Jul 2026
The Moon drifted over my roof
The Moon drifted over my roof
To greet me at my door
To chase dreams with stars once more.
I whispered, Can't, yaar.....
My Monday's Sun is strict & cold
The morning will be his, not mine
To scold me with his gold.
Dearies, sleep well tonight
Before the morning rays take hold.
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