Dearest Saturday

I worked all week,

I sweated and toiled,

I broke my back,

My plans were foiled,

My heart was shattered,

My brain turned to goo

So that, Dearest Saturday,

I could make it to you.

I slaved and I slobbered.

My displeasures grew

As I sat through lectures

I already knew,

I held off angry clients,

Protected my pen

So that we, Dearest Saturday,

Could be one once again.

Metaphorical dragons

Have fallen before me,

Slain so I could assure

That you would not deplore me,

And although I am thankful

To not be deplored

Why is it, Dearest Saturday,

That I’m this freakin’ bored?

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