I used to love Friday!
Hi Day. . . I Day. . .My Day,
Until that (Sigh!) Day
When Mr Lamé . . .
slithered his way under my door
at a quarter to four
scent of her oozing from every pore
Just a friend and nothing more?
Thought life would be a song. . .
He’ll love you long; he’ll love you strong!
Wait! Something’s just gone terribly wrong!
Hissing away with forked tongue!
See ya around!
So Mr. Lame
with string of letters to his name
hometown street acclaim… ing his fame
sophistication . . . he’s got game!
who every night ignited my flame
sank in a bite of poison and shame.
Came. . .
Then gave Dame Afrika his name.
Nothing has ever been the same.
Now it’s just Fried Day
Marinate, Simmer, and Slow-broiled Day
Cry Day, Lie Day
But NEVER ever
Just Pray-the-Most-High Day
That, perchance, someday . . .again I’ll say,
"Thank God It's Friday!"
© Kalypsoul, 2004.