Miserable Monday

The gloom sets in from Sunday night When your mom reminds you 'Go to sleep, its 8, You have school tomorrow, don't you? ' Mumbling, and grumbling And cursing under your breath You think, 'Monday mornings are worse than The most painful death' Next morning you are shaken awake Quite violently by your mother Looking at the time, you have to think 'Why does she even bother? ' Dragging your feet across the floor You splash water on your face Then you make your way back to your room At a slow and steady pace As you cram random books inside your bag Realization dawns upon you 'Yikes! I haven't done my homework, Oh man! I'm gonna be chewed! ' 'No time! ', you think, glancing at the clock 'I might as well copy off someone in school' Grudgingly, you step out of your home, thinking, 'Mondays are so not cool! ' In school, the teacher literally blasts you, yelling, 'You had a whole weekend didn't you? ' You mumble an inaudible sorry but you're thinking, 'Guess what? I have a life and six other subjects too! ' The rest of the day passes by slower Than a turtle trying to walk on glue As every minute seems to stretch into days And you're writing till your hands turn blue As we look at our watches tick in extra-slow motion We bang them on the desks, but in vain Some of them have started breaking the chairs Most of them have gone insane The final bell is like a blessing The most soothing sound to our ears As we scream and run out of the prison Where we feel like we've been trapped for years.