Monday morning comes too fast,
The weekend never seems to last.
I wake and get out of bed,
Stupid Monday, I feel dead.
Into the shower, I now go,
Fresh and clean from head to toe.
Clean and dressed I go down the hall,
Waffles and bacon, I eat it all.
I grab my stuff and go out the door,
Off to Starbucks where they pour,
A coffee that will finally make,
My tired eyes come full awake.
I still yawn, I cannot stop,
I drink my coffee, so I won’t drop.
Coffee and yawns, these are the clues,
That I have the Monday Blues.
Ken_W_Writer’s Stories and Poems 