My Tuesday

It's time for a change
The bruised life to arrange
To find a viable way
For solving an abstruse maze
So I could gain a restful day
With the mood I crave
In my beloved Sunday
For it's the only thing
That I could rejoice and sing
After the fatigue the week brings
And sing to such a harmful degree
That the fixed bruises will again be free

In the midst of this chaos
The poems aren't bad
They take you away when you're sad
For the world calls you mad
You just use the words to blast
And get a shortcut to last
Until Sunday
Sweet Sunday
My Sunday
So I hate Tuesday
But it's all this poem's thanks
That I could obtain a way back

So let's solve this maze
And wholeheartedly wait
For our beloved Sunday

Copyright 2012