Hungover Monday
This does not happen every Monday, but alternatively!
Come one, come all, come tiny, come small
I will narrate a tale so mundane
My mamma might bring out her beating cane!
I hope on none, such misfortune befalls!
On the weekend, my youth had called
Two crates of beer, three bottles of wine,
Four students and nothing to dine
Dish the gossips as if decree divine!
At Monday dawn, I reached the lawn,
After last night’s brawl, I think my steps were a crawl
Before the light went out in my dizzy head,
The wash basket looked with dirty clothes embed!
So the tale of my bad luck happens on Monday
Why don’t we name it a gloom day?
Even the sun has had a weekend rough
Because he decided not to show up
A lot of people took the drier on a weekend spin
In the ‘who is more hungover?’ battle, the drier would win!
Now I had a tub full of clothes very wet,
The sun also had not taken its hangover meds yet
I thank God for online classes!
Because my face looks like swollen molasses
Nobody can see my eyes go shut,
And who cares, if I wear anything in my tiny hut?
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What to read one more?
