Seven Days

I juggle my Mondays with Sunday blues
And always choose slippers over high heeled shoes
On Tuesdays I buy flowers and 'phone my friends
On Wednesdays I daydream about the coming weekend
Thursdays I have classes, Fridays are a bore
Anticipation of Friday night leaves me sleepy and sore
Saturdays whistle by without much ado
And on Sundays I wish I was closer to you

So on Monday I wake up with Sunday blues
And juggle my feelings as I choose my shoes
Ticking things off my checklist doesn't help to get them done
International calls to everywhere takes away all the fun
On Wednesdays I'm hurting in the strangest places
And I stare at the crowd as I yearn for old faces
I haven't done my homework, and Thursday's already here
On a whim I'll want to check out the cheapest air fare..

The routine numbs me, the memories leave me bereft..
You'll call, my voice sounds blurry, you'll just think I slept.
I'll weave daisies and sunshine into my little speech
And I'll talk about funny happenings and reminisce about the beach
I'll listen to your stories and make the right sounds
And I'll want to know all about the rumours doing the rounds--
But catch the break in my voice, catch me before I fall
Or there won't be any pieces left to pick up, at all.



Sorry, it's been very long since I wrote poetry..