In a quiet moment of personal reflection I remembered today why I don't like Friday.
Too many things end on a Friday
just as too many troubles begin....
My grandfather died on a Friday
Two years later, so did my grandmother.
Friday claimed my beloved sheltie dog.
Just as a horrible car wreck took my dear friend.
The worst day of my life found me on a Friday.
Friday was the day I self-destructed.
Nine years ago on a Friday
I let my mother down in her greatest moment of need- the most important person in my life.
It was a Friday that cancer came to visit her and stayed for quite awhile.
Friday in a fit of scared tears, at college, she called me.
Desperately needing someone to talk to- her only daughter, her best friend.
That very Friday I hung up on her as soon as she told me the news.
I was too scared to hear those words. I couldn't listen, I didn't want to.
I never touched a drop of alcohol until that Friday.
I threw my innocence away on that very Friday,
just so I could hurt myself as badly as I had hurt her.
Friday is the worst day.
Every time Friday comes my way
I remember
and I still feel the guilt.
I have not forgiven myself, but my mother has, she understood my fear before I did.
I'll take a Tuesday over a Friday
Give me a Saturday, Sunday, or Monday, even a Thursday
But spare me another somber Friday.
Copyright © 2010 L.Warren
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