Ode to Monday

A poem - written in nonsense-pentameter, and does not rhyme.


How I do loathe you, Monday!
Your sunny disposition hides
The rabid beast within.
Oh, how you play games
With me Monday!
My alarm,
It is so very loud.
My air conditioner,
It is so very broken.
I leave the house and
My shoes don't match!
Unfortunately, this is not exaggeration.
Monday! Why didn't you tell me
There was a PTD call at 8:30 this morning.
For that matter, why didn't my boss!?
Monday, are you and hi
In it together
To drive me crazy?
Oh Monday, you herald of all things
Miserable and wrong.
There is not enough Midol
To get me through this day.
I need an anti-acid.
I need a Diet Pepsi.
I need it to be Tuesday.


Cheers,
Alette

"I never called myself a poet" -Alette