Thursday, March 29, 2012

Five O'Clock on Friday

A much wiser man than I stated that being foolish on April Fool’s Day is like drinking on Saint Patrick’s day…strictly for amateurs.

Therefore in that spirit, and to preserve my professionally foolish nature, here’s an attempt at a serious poem.

It’s Five o'clock on Friday
And the crowds are going home
Plans for fun and frolic
They’ll have new places to roam

But weekends bring no joy to me
As the group goes on its way
I'll sit inside my empty home
And while the days away

It's five o'clock on Friday
Everyone goes out tonight
I watch the world spin by me
Stuck alone and full of fright

People I see everyday
Make dates and off they go
But I've no destination
And it fills my heart with woe

It's five o'clock on Friday
Another week has come and gone
But those two days do not help much
When you spend them on your own

The time when others re-joice
Brings a tear into my eye
For the weekend brings no happiness
When you are a lonely guy

It's five o'clock on Friday
But no sympathy I'll take
I'm really thrilled, and have some plans
This poem is a fake

My untrue rhymes are finished now
My final point I'll hit
You can't tell a suff-rin' artist
From a smart-ass, full of...............baloney

Then I go  “woo-hoo! woo-hoo!” and bounce over the horizon.

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