Stop,
slow down,
I've missed it.

The weekend,
it's gone,
it's over.

What happened?
it's past,
it's history.

I hate this,
the weekend,
it's over.

Weekend,
I love them,
I enjoy them.

Weekdays,
tomorrow,
I hate them.

Hang in there,
it's painful,
but you'll make it.

Monday Tuesday,
Wednesday Thursday,
I hate the most.

Friday I like,
I celebrate,
the weekend to come.

As soon as it came,
it'll be gone,
and I write a poem beginning with:

Stop,
slow down,
I've missed it.