Sulky Sunday

woman in red lipstick opening her mouth

This is a little rhyme that I wrote for my wife because she used to sulk so much on Sundays about having to go to work on Monday.

I am not a poet, I don’t know how to formulate poetry and I am not about to learn any time soon, it is what it is.

She seemed to think that it was funny.

 

 

The big day is here, it’s called sulky Sunday,

It’s not too much fun but it’s better than Monday,

 

The day starts off well, but the clock moves so fast,

She wants time to slow, she wants it to last,

but in the blink of an eye, the day has now passed.

 

To bed she must go, with feelings of sadness,

This Monday feeling is total madness,

 

She closes her eyes and before she is rested,

She is torn from her slumber by the number so detested,

 

It’s 6am, the alarm is ringing, and the ears are stinging,

 

With one thought in her mind, she crawls out of bed,

It’s another DAMN Monday, she screams in her head.

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