Original Poems

Friday’s Daughter

Friday's Daughter

So get the music playing
Let’s get started right away
Her comes Friday’s daughter
And she doesn’t go halfway

She’s in her white convertible
Hair flying in the breeze
And she can be with anyone
Whoever she might please

She’s the favorite perfume
Of about a thousand guys
But although they might catch her scent
They’re starstruck otherwise

For Friday’s daughter knows the town
The scene, the lights, the noise
With all the men she meets becoming
Just so many boys

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