I woke up in a Saturday Morning
sleeping in too late.
It is a little boring
this is the mood I really hate.
I missed all of my favorite cartoons
its now 11 o'clock.
Maybe I should play with my harpoon
but I know I'll just be told to stop.
While I'm writing this poem
my brother comes up to me and says hey.
Then I go to my friends home
and that is what makes my Saturday.