The alarm goes off,
I roll over in bed.
I squeeze my eyes shut,
I'm filled with such dread.
It's Monday Morning,
The worst time of all.
It feels so woeful,
I just want to bawl.
I stay in my covers
Till half past eight.
Then I fall from the bed
to accept my fate.
I can't stop Monday.
Many have tried.
But Monday is heartless,
There is no bright side.
It's the start of another
Horrible week.
And I can already tell,
This one looks bleak.
The weather is dismal,
My classes subpar,
I trudge along bleakly
And hope I get far.
Far away from this Monday
of gloom and despair
And closer to Saturday
With it's peaceful flair.
For now I will wait
watching the sun slowly set.
And think to myself,
"It's not Tuesday yet."
You are a great writer - you could be an author on the side and just say no to the public appearances (I read your "my story" page) Loved the poem, but love you more!!
ReplyDelete