Hard Day’s Work

I put in a satisfying day of hard work.
Drank my cokes on break.
Felt achy in every joint.
Tired was the word, pooped,
Treading on hot sidewalks.

I came home, and I lay on my bed.
The hours passed by, slowly.
I realized, that dread from childhood
Of the passage of time slowly
Was built for a purpose.
When one works all day,
Eight hours, and comes home physically exhausted,
Time ought to move more slowly
So you can hopefully be better prepared for the next day's work.