Mondays.

Mondays are always painted as the bad guy, as that one day you want to skip every week, so I thought I’d create something that shows Monday as something that we can also look forward to.

Also, a constant warning that my poems are crap.


It’s the beginning of a new week
And the end of my pleasure.
God, I hate Mondays so much
In ways even physics cannot measure.

When I rate Mondays on a scale of 1 to 10,
I wouldn’t hesitate to give it a zero.
I asked some people to do the same
And all they told me was, “Yeah, ditto.”

But things started changing and
My fondness for Monday suddenly grew.
I started looking forward to it—why?
I think I might have a clue.

It could be the power of proximity,
Or just my stomach and its butterflies.
But whatever it is, I just know that
It’s a thing that I will always deny.

I’ll keep waiting for Mondays while
continuing to suppress these feelings
Because nobody has to know that
I find you kind of appealing. (Kind of.)

And as I rate this Monday on a scale of 1 to 10,
It jumped from a zero to a twenty-five
Because I didn’t know Mondays can be so sweet.
I really didn’t, that is, until you arrived.

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