
*ahem*
A poem called Friday.
Friday oh Friday, how thee I loathe,
for Friday I clean out my collected trove.A trove full of tasks so unbearably dim,
I pushed them to Friday on nought but a whim.Collection bucket is the name of my dues,
but how do I pay them and not sing the blues?’Tis simple enough, only I must remember,
what is my tedium is another one’s splendor.For the dullest of tasks I shall bear with a grin,
if that’s all it takes to nourish me and my kin.So put on some music and get to work with a whistle,
since you shan’t be remembered as a snob of dismissal.Friday oh Friday, how lucky I am,
for you allow me to be a free happy man.