Tuesday’s Girl

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Tuesday’s girl is wanting.
She feels all shades of lame.
She’s extinguished all dreaming
And now, nothing is the same.
Perhaps if born a Friday girl,
Things would have been okay.
She’d dance away the merry night
And sleep away the day.
A Thursday girl would have sufficed,
Patience would be her thing.
She’d know there’s better things to come,
And promises to bring.
Instead, she is a Tuesday girl.
Stranded somewhere midway.
If only she could turn back clocks,
Be born another day.

Tuesday’s Girl

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