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I hate Sundays
Sundays - YUCK!
Sundays always
Break my luck
Donkeys bray, and
Chickens cluck
But Sundays kill
Adventure's pluck
Sundays come
And Sundays go
No matter how many
No matter how slow
With enough Sundays
They serve to show
Ever nothing's changed
Never Nothing will
Time now to climb
Back up the hill
Bluster through
The weekly thrill
Till comes Sunday
To break the spell.
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Thank G-d we can climb up that hill again and again because one day soon we will not be able to climb up! On that day we will climb another hill and Sundays will be Mondays or vice a versa! "Life is but a vapor".
ReplyDeleteI have to share this with Gabriel because he is living this poem!
Thx for wading through the words dear.
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