Stuck On Repeat

Monday is first.
By far the worst.
No sense doing work.
There’s time tomorrow.

Tuesday comes quick.
Hits like a brick.
Should’ve used Monday.
Senselessly scramble.

Wednesday rolls up.
Coffee in cup.
Actually productive.
Doom slightly deterred.

Thursday says hi.
You smile and cry.
Personal day.
Like unofficially though.

Friday arrives.
Saver of lives.
Happily type.
For maybe two hours.

Saturday peeks in.
Put on a grin.
Freedom tastes good.
But a really small portion!

Sunday is here.
Monday is near.
Tickety-tock goes the clock.
Anxiety goes knock-knock.

Please read this poem again.