Monday Morning Feeling Poem by Barbara Clafton

I wake, reluctantly
And then I rise
Wipe the sticky mass out of my eyes.
Yawn, quite loudly
Stumble on my way,
Dreading the start of yet another dreary day.

I wait, impatiently
As the kettle slowly boils,
Thinking, frantically of life and of its toils,
I pour, haphazardly
The water to the cup
And realise that I'll be late if I don't hurry up.

I dress, quite hurriedly
In rather scruffy clothes
And squeeze my swollen feet into shoes that hurt my toes.
I turn, confidently
The key in the ignition,
My car starts faithfully whilst bashed beyond recognition.

I arrive, on time
At my lowly placed of work,
And start my job as usual, but the boss is still a jerk.
Lunch time, what a laugh
We get just half an hour
And listen to the management spouting words of power.

Five o'clock, time for home
The end of another day,
Give a lift to somebody who lives along the way.
The dog, crossleggedly
Waiting by the door
Let him out to do his thing, then feed him once more.

Bath, relaxingly
Takes all your cares away.
I guess Monday's not, after all, such an awful day.