A Monday poem today, me thinks.
Against the sweet joy of wasting my time,
Your blankets a lover, the pillow's a dream,
But Monday arrives like a cold curdled scream.
The inbox will be bloating, a digital rot,
So crawl from the sheets with a groan and a sigh.
Put on the professional mask, but enter near me with caution,
Only five days of penance 'til Friday's sweet spark-
Now time to be a rockstar before it gets dark.







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