Seven Days

Posted on Jan 25, 2015


Work stressed woman Picture courtesy of

Picture courtesy of

Monday the day that starts the week
Tired is she and hoarse is her speak
From the party she did go
Off to work now with a headache to show

Tuesday comes to her lethargically
The same old thing on this boring day
Too long away is the weekend to her
As she slaves away, this job interred

Wednesday, the middle of the week now
She just wants it over, milked like a cow
Her bosses push her to limits far
She just wants to drive away in her car

Thursday it arrives with a gentle nudge
Almost the weekend, the week she does shrug
Maybe she’ll go out to play tonight
Or save herself for better weekend sights

Friday has finally jumped up at her
The rest of the week now just a blur
She smiles as work at five she leaves
Pops into a bar with friends for drinks

Saturday she wakes with a big smile
Up to mischief she got by a mile
An arm wraps around her in bed
She smiles again, what a night she had

Sunday she wakes up alone but happy
Yesterday busy with shopping, friends but no chappie
Family she’s sees for her Sunday roast
Home to bed, ready for work she hates most

*First published on November 2nd 2011 at 09:56 and re-edited on 25th January 2015 at 0945

Posted in: Poetry