Thank God it’s Friday. A Poem

 

Thank God it’s Friday

But Why oh Friday are you called good?

Is it that you are the day standing at the end all proud- who announces aloud

The grand heralder of two days off

An on your marks, get set go for the taxi-ing the kids to ballet or Jujitsu Seeing granny or having a cheeky drinky poo?

 

Thank God it’s Friday

But why oh why today are you alone called good?

You really must be, as even google calls you good on my calander, it’s plain to see

You’re the Friday who has the fish day, feet up evening, take away or going out

Friday, you’ve really got some clout.

 

Thank God it’s Friday

But why oh why today are you alone called good?

Imagine that very first good one…. It wasn’t quite so peachy.

It was dark, literally and metaphorically, it was strangely bad.

Have a think… what if you had been a friend of that man who only had, loved

Torn in shreds, a crown crushed cruelly punctured head

The beautiful full of life one, left for dead.

But then, we know Sunday is coming, so despite the cry day…

Thank God it’s Friday.

Thank God it’s Friday.

jesus christ crucifixion

 

 

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