My Four Day Weekend

At home, At rest.
I’ve passed the test,
After the falling of the so-called best.
Me and my fifth,
In my chair, a monolith,
Until my brain is relaxed herewith.
Four days old,
Is what I was told,
The day my buzz will grow cold.
On the fifth I return,
To what little I earn,
To a place I’d much rather watch burn.
On a more serious note,
In their love I’ll float,
From those on whom I’d love to dote.
Running here running there,
Everyday breathing air.
And for everything I’m Thankful,
Regardless of whether life’s fair.