Across the Universal Rainstorm Clouds
Heather has a Bachelor's Degree in English from Moravian College and has been freelance writing for more than 13 years.
Alarm clock screamed at the top of its temperamental lungs
Shouted about another grey dawn of a morning
Sun took a 24 hour vacation to Jamaica and Bahamas
Mother Nature's dark mood seemed to be spreading
Desire to get out of bed faded with each passing minute
Internal tempest darkened the Mount Laurel sky
Angered by the idea of another lackluster 8 hour day
A cog in an endless machine going nowhere fast
Expected to be a know-it-all when only a beginner
Intelligence draining out of the faucet each hour
Smile evaporated with the last solitary drop of brain power
Became a dried out supermodel left in the desert too long
Fed up with feeling so raw and uncooked
Like a piece of meat left out at a Labor Day barbeque
Became a rancid item meant to be disposed of immediately
Ignored by the masses as they congregated by the pool
Searching for a crowd and a suntan at the same time
Never truly left high school by clinging to approval of others
Crumpled to paper scraps when not received in timely fashion
Craved the approval of the Siskels, Eberts and the Blackwells
Never getting the accolades privately and openly deserved
Sick of being the resident whipping post for when everything
Goes wrong and they need someone to blame
Faces turned into scowls and the words "Not right now" uttered
Transformed into the gum stuck on the bottom of sneakers
Stuck to the carpet and frustratingly left behind for another pair
Treated as if resentment only a figment of imagination
Lost in the windmills and tumbleweeds inside the mind's eye
Can't take this hemmed in sentiment any longer
Unable to focus on anything good or bad
Listening to Eric Clapton and Talking Heads made difficult
Ready to scream, yell and throw things just to get a reaction
Potentially being locked up in an extra padded cell
Key thrown into a moving trash truck
Headed to a landfill never to be seen from again
Ready to eradicate this tactless Thursday from memory
One meant not be repeated in the history books
Eager for Friday to roll around the corner; even better when it was quitting time
Left the other worker bees in the corporate dust and in the rearview mirror
Time to celebrate the weekend and another vacation
Rest, relaxation and pure unadulterated bliss
Cannot wait for the fun to begin.