Most Mondays
When legs may refuse to walk
One is lifted gently
Prodded along the path
By hope
Hope energises, it inspires
Though there’s something else
Fear of death.
That intense dread
Is the finest motivator
of them all

Sometimes duty calls
Sacrifice it gravely demands
For some, it’s the dangling pay-check
At end of their path
And they sprint, run, walk
Even fly

And I laboriously crawl
As Monday in a blur
Is rushing past
It’s not that I don’t try
Every attempt though
Staggers and falls
There’s a pile of unfulfilled dreams
Heavy on my back
My very own,
And dead,
Albatross.