Oh Bank Holiday, I knew you not
When you came I could not stop
Thinking about work.
Disgusted you left as quick as you came
And now I am left holding the blame
For your hasty depature,
I spend all year wishing you were here
As I sink my dull greyness with beer,
In some desparate hope,
That you’ll come and meet my needs
A few weeks early, with fictious speed.
But I have to wait.
But when you got here I was busy.
An Ode to a Bank Holiday
Published March 24, 2008 Poetry , creative writing , poem Leave a CommentTags: bank, creative writing, holiday, poem, Poetry
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