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Monday
morning early start, Tuesday holds its own
Late
night Wednesday plays its part and Thursday takes its toll
Friday
morning, feeling older and weary to my bones
But
the weight of the world falls from my shoulders on the Friday night
train home
Sleeping
bags in doorways and the red light turns to green
The
dealer on the corner caught in a headlight’s beam
I
swear the weather’s turning colder,
I’m frozen to the bone
But
the weight of the world falls from my shoulders on the Friday night
train home
And
the platform’s thick with people
And
every train is packed
I’ve
got a ticket for the weekend
And
I’m never coming back
Monday morning early start and here I go again
The
weekend seems a world apart, it seems a world away
But
soon enough the week is over – how the days have flown
And
the weight of the world falls from my shoulders on the Friday night
train home
Copyright
Liz Simcock October 2010
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