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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Another day of the week

The following isn't really a poem, but I'm too lazy and tired at this ungodly hour to mess around with it, so damn it, if I say it's a poem, it's a poem:


The runner staggers towards the finish line,

Cuppa Joe in one hand, the mouse in the other.


Been a hell of a week and he's blurry-eyed,

But then he's always suffering from that particular malady,


So used to it it's part of his wardrobe, underwear, socks,

Pants, shirt, coat, blurry-eyes. He fights though it, writing,


Half-thinking, forgetting about the backspace button,

So what little's in his brain, in his shadowy reality,


Is posted for all the world to see, "Scary, isn't it kids?

See what awaits you if you don't eat your peas?


Mind going rogue, with no filter on your thoughts or words,

And NO idea what your original idea was, you just


Keep typing blindly ahead, damn the torpedoes!"

Mercifully, Friday is here you tell yourself so you can


Take it easy, gather your thoughts and wits, and concentrate.

You can tell yourself that, but the reality is NOTHING


Will change. Like Mike, you'll flounder around, trying

Desperately to find an idea, SOMETHING worth writing about,


But you'll come up with nothing, so you'll drink your coffee,

Press those keys, people will read it, and laugh,

'Poor bastard!'

Submitted: May 03, 2019

© Copyright 2021 Mike S.. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Very clever, Mike, but totally untrue!

Sat, May 4th, 2019 5:46pm


Thank you, Hull!

Sat, May 4th, 2019 10:58am

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