I love coffee, I love tea,
I love the girls, but they’re mean to me.

I love Saturday, I love Sunday,
But how could anyone ever love Monday?

Let’s make a scientific analysis,
Let’s diagnose this Monday paralysis.

Well, you’ve suffered an overdose of sunburn;
You must blister and peel before you un-burn.

For junk your muscles could all be sold for,
From engaging in games you are now too old for.

You’re bloated from a diet of buns and hamburgers,
Chickenburgers, cheeseburgers, nutburgers, clamburgers.

Your hair may be brushed, but your mind’s untidy,
You’ve had about seven hours’ sleep since Friday,

No wonder you feel that lost sensation;
You’re sunk from a riot of relaxation.

What you do on week ends, you claim to adore it.
That’s why Labor Day is a red-letter news day –
Blue Monday doesn’t come until Tuesday.

--Ogden nash

Will bloom: A man tells so many stories, that he becomes the stories. They live on after him, and in that way he becomes immortal.