I Hate Mondays

Montagmorgen by Hans Baluschek

A Sabbath rest is good for me,
But builds on my complacency,
So at precisely _:30
I curse that dumb alarm.
I hate Mondays.

At work my eyes – they droop and drop
Or if they look, they’re seeing not
My brain is full of nothing hot
My mind means me great harm.
I hate Mondays.

The work I have does not get done.
My lunch is cold, and everyone
Seems ill at ease. We have no fun.
The day – it has no charm.
I hate Mondays.

I walk home drenched in summer pour
Thinking I can take no more
But then you meet me at the door
Affectionately warm.
I suppose they aren’t that bad.