Monday mornings might make me mean. Mild mist mixes my moods.

Moreover, many mistakes may murder my moral. Missing most memories motivates mourning.

"Misery must melt," my mouth meets my mind.

Minutes mirror moments. Mazes move. Mystery multiplies. 

Movements mislead mindless 'myselves'.

"My majesty," Monet's masterpieces moan, mocking me.

Magnificent museums mean magic.