Sterling Arnet - Wasted Sundays

as i lay in my queen size bed with the the sign drunk written on my head.
i leaned over to see my best mate lying in a state appearing half dead.

where did we go? what did we do? why did we get home TODAY? !
as the questions ran through my mind along with the horrible rackets of my home on this sunday.

after i had fallen asleep 2 hours ago and forgot i ever awoke.
i faintly remember my father yelling and provoking the two of us like the laughing joke.

leaving only to realise that he was getting little back but a half hearted moan and groan.
then i shrivle back up to try and recover my strength knowing im not in it alone.

i reach for my phone which seems acres away.
to see the time in which has past this wasted day.

the clock strikes 4 and its beyond a joke as i try to grasp any loose form of kiness.
i manage to propel my self from the bed but lose balance and end up in a mess.

what a wonderfull way to spend a day in bed.
hope ill be doing again next weekend.

Sterling Arnet

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wasted-sundays/