The Last Sunday

Today is the last Sunday
One more day of
Unhindered lack-of-responsibility
One more day of
Slacking, lounging, and just enjoying
Life.
Everything changes in the morning
When the clock and calendar conspire
To regiment and dictate
The way of the day
But not this year
For I’m tired of a working man’s existence
Punching a clock,
Having some dinner, and
Going to sleep.
Nope,
Work stays work
But thoese lazy days of the last two weeks
Have charged my soul
With new priorities
That don’t include the drama
Of laboring through nine to five
So it as such,
This is the last Sunday
I worry about work

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