Since I was a child, I would personify everything: I'd feel sorry for the faded pants that wouldn't be packed for holidays in Spain; for the ten penny piece I dropped, lost and never found in the cemetery when I was 5 and the alphabet letters I delete as I type and meanly replace with another.
So tonight, I got to thinking how Friday, Saturday, and to some extent, Sunday get all our respect, hope and love. No one celebrates poor Monday, so I thought I'd give it a go. #LoveMondays #FridaysAreNothingWithoutMondays #TeamMonday
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
You're Nothing Without Me
Who does Friday think she is?
“Well I set people free
I draw dawn yawns all smiling
They bound from beds for me
I shut schools for two whole days
Well, what a silly place
I get the parties started
I fun-fill every face.”
Saturdays are just as smug …
“I’m sorry; I’m the best
I gift the world a whole day
To frolic free, unstressed
I create adventure lands
On beaches, parks, in heads
I rid the kids of bedtimes
My midnight strike, all dread.”
Sundays, though, are too confused
“It’s not my fault I boast
About my lazy mornings
About my juicy roasts
It’s not my fault they turn on me
Sometime around half six
When you eavesdrop my evening
with mean and mindless tricks.”
Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, don’t
show off like the weekend
And if I had to choose one
Dear Tuesday’s my best friend
Wednesday, she sits on the fence
And Thursday’s Friday’s eve
Just Tuesday holds my hand tight
and whispers, “You should leave.”
I am Monday, I am sick
of people cursing me
I’m not the Killjoy Empress
or Queen of Misery
I’m the most important day
Just not the giggling type
I start the week, I pay the bills
I love my lack of hype
Don’t, next week, start moaning on
how you do not feel free
Remember that The Weekend
is nothing without me
Mark Bird