Its 9 am on a Friday Morn
So Why can I hear the Monday Blues Horn
Why ain’t my mind filled with ecstacy
Of the weekend ahead ,the 2 days for me
Perhaps, its still Friday and I can’t get over it


The smell of coffee,the warmth of printed paper
The noise of my manager sitting on my shoulder
The voice of the keyboard strokes, the clumsy office space
The fan of my motherboard,bing of the failed connection database


Browser tends to shift more to all the download sites
But its almost time to shift to port B
Life is as boring as this Friday highlites
Damn the phone’s ringing again, this poetry stops here for me!




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