All week days I run around,
Here and there to attend classes,
All days on motion,
No moment to sit and sip,
Tired and bored is the cycle.
But hurray! ! It's the weekend,
Saturdays were sold washing, Sunday to planning,
Everyone seem to think weekend is for chilling,
But for me, its no chill.
All weekends, I have something on my hand, lots on my head,
Clothes to fold, work to do,
No time for partying or clubbing,
Pay me a visit and you will find me hardly sitting.
The weekend is no chill,
Neither is it a break from classes,
It's probably just the only time
I have a moment to sit,
Alone for a minute.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem