It starts with Mondays,
And ends with the Fridays,
Mondays come at brisk rate,
The Fridays come with delays.
At times the week pass like months,
Sometimes the months pass in a week,
At times it’s hard to kill time,
Sometimes the time kills you.
The moment you are idle you start feeling lazy,
The moment work surrounds you, you start becoming crazy,
You never are satisfied with the amount of work u get,
You never complain the amount of laziness you spend
At times you don’t get an hour for a timely lunch,
Sometimes you spend half the day on a lively lunch,
At times d coffee cups keep stacking around,
Sometimes it’s hard to find even one around.
The stubborn mouse and the static keyboard,
The continuous clicks and the frequent locks,
The dirty desktop with an exciting Outlook,
The lovely mails creating unending chains,
The serious looks, and the illogical debates,
The grueling hours of lengthy meetings,
Creating absolute boredom and sleepy eyes
There r many more moments, this poem can describe.
So easily we fake work,
How quickly we pretend to b busy,
So lazily we pass morning till dark,
How efficiently v show ourselves to b busy
They come so late,
And leave so early,
You come so early,
Yet you leave so late.
They manage to keep their sleep up to date,
You put your lovely sleep at stake.
You keep working with conviction,
They keep on stacking work like sedimentation,
You try to show dedication,
Work piles on with varying orientation.
You try to show irritation,
Work increases your frustration
The more u become devoted,
Work keeps u motivated,
The moment u become frustrated,
You start getting infuriated.
When life becomes easy,
You wish having challenges,
The moment life throws u challenges,
You start feeling uneasy.
I would not have been writing
If life were so easy,
I would not b pouring my emotions
If I were not so happy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.