Cheapest Poem of The Week – Friday’s Child

It’s time for a new feature, who knows if it’ll catch on. We hope it does. It’s time for the Cheapest Poem of The Week. Every Friday (or FriYAY amiright) we’ll be putting out a poem, because the world needs more culture/ someone suggested we do it/ we desperately need more content:


Friday’s Child

Been working Monday,Thursday through

Just so I get back to you

To feel your glimmer, to smell your grace

I long to see Friday’s face

My life is empty, my wallet too

There’s but one thing that I can do

I’ll hit the town I’ll hit the doorstaff

What the fuck? Give me my drink back

Don’t you know I pay your wages?

I’ve been waiting here for ages

No service here? What does that mean?

“I’m a winner” – Charlie Sheen

Now why can’t I find my friend?

I never want this night to end

Why will no-one serve me drinks

I only called them “fucking pricks”

I clicked my fingers once or twice

A proper job, that’s my advice

On Saturday we go again

We are but boys we are not men

But fuck the fucking fucking barstaff

I really want my fucking drink back.

It’ll do. Happy Friday.



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