As a concerned friend
And pro-Monday advocate
I find myself in a bind;
That I find,
The need to smother thee
In a giant pile of radioactive goo
Only the thought startles me so
That you might evolve into a greater foe.
Woe is me!
Monday, what has come of us?
Forget the days in the week
With the rate at how your mutilating me
I fear my immune system shall flake
And through the days my limbs shall lay.
Forget the birth of Spring
It’s more a dust storm.
Debris of hate lies all around
As no one wants you around.
Hated foe you have become Monday
I fear my nose compels me so
Blame the wind and my allergies
For dear friend
You are dead to me.