Screw Monday: Lame Poem #9a

I cleaned my mirror so I could see

It was so beautiful with that reflection of me

Frigging freezing in the artic blast
Just my Windex and me

I scrubbed and I scrubbed until my handsome visage I could see

I think my pecker fell off again due to the cold

But it was too chilly to look or even get a hold

I got back in my warm truck and adjusted my view

When along came a frigging bird and bombed my reflection with poop

It was a bullseye that showed true marksmanship and skill

Frigging Mondays suck, I thought to myself as I resisted my will

To crawl back under my blankeys with my vapor rub and Dayquil