Soulless Sunday
It's came around again, the mother of them all,
I'm longing for the twilight hours, will i walk out standing tall?
Beginning in the early hours, the doors, the books, the lights,
Hours on the security desk, putting the world to rights.
Books are coming thick and fast, volley after volley,
Knackered, brain dead, a broken man, pushing round a trolley.
Afternoon soon comes around, part of the torture done,
Waiting till the clock strikes 4, the reinforcements come.
Teatime arrives and evening starts, I can nearly see the light,
The hours go by, mid evening comes, the future's looking bright.
At last we're there, it's dark again, the day has come and gone,
The feeling of a wasted day, that feeling is so wrong!!!
I stagger out, still on my feet, in my bed I'll delve,
In my mirror, it shows the strain, a shadow of myself.
This poem is to all those men, who attempt to tackle this,
It's a token gesture of some hope, a little ray of bliss!!
This sums up the concept beautifully. Couldn't have put it better myself.
ReplyDeleteWell done, the best you've ever produced.
As I sit here pondering on your little ditty.
ReplyDeleteI can relate the predicament but alas I have no pity.
I feel your pain your anguish and your words relate that back.
If I had my way, I'd skip all Sundays but I fear I'd get the sack
So carry on with your turmoil, your labour and your work.
While I sit here relaxing, drinking red from a crystal cup.
But although your anguish is your's, and truly your's alone.
You know that soon someone will replace you on that throne.
So enjoy your shift, make the most of it,
it soon will cease to be.
But I cannot help but ponder on how soon that shift will include ME!
A day in the shift of a Janny. we can all identify with this.
ReplyDeleteSums it all up - Brilliant!
There is a suggestion of a military metaphor; reinforcements...
especially:
Books are coming thick and fast, volley after volley,
Knackered, brain dead, a broken man, pushing round a trolley.
there's something of the war poet there - but with an obvious light touch and humorous take.
I feel your pain! I feel your pain! You didn't mention the 10PM shift though, the 'Elite' warriors of the team.
ReplyDeleteSunday, all day shift is a gigantic test of endurance. Will you check the clock or wont you? While putting your books from the trolley on the shelves, you find some thoughtless miscreant has dumped a pile of random numbered books on the shelf - do you gather them and put them away correctly - or not? Questions, questions and so the loooooooonnnnnnnnnng day goes on.
ReplyDeleteWell done your poem is a classic!!