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Rated: E · Poetry · Cultural · #2226720
Monday becomes like Friday the 13th.
Here comes Blue Monday, we will make it shady;
just like the 13th of Friday can be.
Bad luck becoming the start of the workweek;
misplace a letter, perhaps skin your knee.

Infamous day this for doing the laundry;
Monday the 13th will now have a ring.
After a weekend of peaceful enjoyment,
here comes a Monday where bane is the thing.

Friday the 13th—don’t step on a ladder;
see a black cat sends a chill down your spine.
Step on a sidewalk crack, break Mama’s backbone;
bad luck on Friday is no friend of mine.

Monday was, “moon-day” to ancient ancestors;
lazy its status of so long ago.
Sleepy-eyed sashaying twenty-four hours;
on the 13th lots of bad luck to flow.

Maybe it can take the pressure off Friday;
Friday the 13th does oft take the rap.
Monday the 13th may have careless drivers;
extend the weekend, stay home, take a nap.

I see this Monday in threadbare attire;
such is the raiment when luck goes astray.
Unlucky misfortune egg yolks are broken—
such is when Monday becomes a bad day.

24 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
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