MONDAYS SUCK AND AN EMPTY CUP

Mondays suck and an empty cup
Everything I see kicks my brain
Because, I try to be a writer and
I seem to do best when I am in pain
What I do comes natural – no metals here
I use the archaic form of ancient rhyme
But in a world that’s so disjointed
This simple style seems out of time
I see little children crying for justice
When they’re being used and abused
I see the poor pauper begging for mercy
While haughtily being crushed and refused
I see green acres being denuded by greed
Strip malls rising amidst black parking lots
School students on a diet of Ritalin
As my stomach is evermore tied in knots
In a world where grandparents see no kids
But are in nursing homes, feeling alone
Smelling urine instead of rose gardens
Wondering if all sense of sanity is gone
In a colorless concrete and asphalt forest
The mockingbird’s song has been replaced
By the siren’s loud, non-melodic wail
In a world where natural beauty is defaced
Mondays used to be a mere continuation
Of the grand celebration of living life
But now this day represents the reentrance
Into a realm of constant turmoil and strife
Where family members go their separate ways
To fight dark demons fierce and strong
Unable to draw upon each other’s strength
When the battle turns and is going wrong
So hell yes – Mondays suck and an empty cup
For in my stomach is another little pill
To ease me through another day – another week
Where the zest for life has lost its thrill

Sam DeLoach
Copyright 2008