Dear Monday
I understand why nobody likes you.
You’re soaking in excuses that
drip blood and wishes of self-destruction
all over the universe’s pristine carpet.
You slaughter relaxation and force
the disgusting gruel of the workweek
down our throats and into our lives.
When you’re around, the world’s factory
sputters alive and churns out
responsibilities and unfinished assignments.
But in all honesty, there are worse
things than you because you are
the sun rising on another restless day;
you represent the gradual evolution
leading us back to consistent normalcy.
I despise everything you are, but
I’ll admit that you’re the reason
that I’m able to begin a new week.