Rough Days | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: Rough Days | Previous Challenge Entry
By Linda Goergen
02/05/15
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This horrible Monday—what a bad affair,
just wanted to rest, escape the lightning’s glare,
but found that my cupboard and fridge were all bare
of every quick and instant meal—a sad deal,
for when I called take-out food delivery,
no one wanted to bring it to me—the storm—
power outages—caused me to have to cook,
a meal from scratch—Oh Lord just look
at the rough day it’s been.

Oh, how this dreadful Tuesday just pains my soul,
my dog destroyed my TV’s remote control,
I planned watching a tape of the super bowl,
reclining in my chair—just vegging out there,
not having to get up and down to change channels,
just wanted to kick back in my flannels—be cool—
but steamed—when I found the fool dog had also,
ate the fan control—Oh Lord you know
what a rough day it’s been.

Troublesome Wednesday—Oh, why is life so hard,
my riding lawn mower broke—can’t cut the yard,
can you believe my neighbor, old Mister Bard,
insinuated I use grandpa’s mower—
the old push kind—hard to use and outdated,
I’m fated, to be aggravated you see,
as machine and man in their bothersome way,
trouble my day—Oh Lord I pray
see the rough day it’s been.

Do you think Thursday could arrive care-free? Nope—
went to wash piled up dishes—no dishwasher soap,
washing them by hand—no way—long day—can’t cope—
so off I rush to the store, for soap and more,
only to find it packed with shoppers galore,
all the ride on carts taken—left me shaken—
and as I toughed it through my grocery isle walk,
I whined to God—Oh Lord, let’s talk
‘bout the rough day it’s been.

I was hoping Friday would pass without a hitch,
but the day brought with it, a computer glitch ,
couldn’t access anything—so had to ditch
my shopping—my bills—my medicine refills,
for going out to do them is such a chore,
too much hassle going to each store—to buy—
and pay—and not getting online taxed my mind,
it wearied me—Oh Lord You’ll find
a long, rough day it’s been.

A slothful Saturday was my weekend plan,
just enjoying the beach, tanning on the sand,
how unfair to find a flat tire on my van,
too hot for me to change it now—so I vow,
to call roadside assistance—I’m entitled,
but still, I fight to keep my temper bridled,
for the work I have to do— just to be back
where I started—Oh Lord keep track
of the rough day it’s been.

Rising Sunday, I pat myself on the back,
for not lingering in bed, or being slack,
for going to church, whereas others may lack
motivation—I praise my dedication…
until I’m told of a family that needs food,
and lives in conditions so crude—it shocks me—
how hard the family works, for so little yield,
but they’re dedicated to the mission field,
and I’m shone their rough days….

And in a teary haze, I cry—
Oh Lord, please forgive my laziness.

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