Unexpectedly,
bombs are thrown at me.
Arrows are no longer used,
as explosives are more deadly.
No matter where I hide,
or where I stick my head into,
the bombs are homing,
and stick to me like glue.
Each has a time limit,
until it is due.
I have to multi-task,
else it is adieu.
I cannot sleep well,
so I start counting sheep.
I always wake up thinking,
if I did even sleep.
Now the end of week is here,
I shall stay at home and disappear,
hidden from every bombardier,
until Monday will I reappear,
clearing bombs without any fear,
shedding everything but a tear.
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