Seven Days Hath This Week Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Seven days hath this week.
With a weekend that comes leaping in...
To leave us on Monday,
Squeezing every second left...
Before that routine kept we keep.

And those temperments begin,
Around noon during Tuesday's lunch.
With those discussing their company's losses!
And who they'd like to punch.

Then Wednesday arrives.
And all hell breaks loose.
Employees loudly argue...
One of them stole and drank,
A refrigerated juice.
Cuss words heard fly with no excuse.

Thursday everyone wants to amend over happy hour.
Apologizing for the spilled milk.
That should have never left anyone sour.

Plans are shared on Friday...
With no work anywhere to be done.

And Saturday secret lovers,
Finger their nakedness.
Going over what should be said...
When on Sunday when sunrise comes,
They sneak into bed normally shared with spouses.
Declaing a business meeting,
Has made them too tired...
For sex wished that is begged!