Oh no, there’s the dreaded alarm.
Now you lazily roll over halfway
And realize you can’t feel your arm.
What a great star you say
As you stumble out of bed.
Slide open the curtains to welcome the day
And admire the sun turning the sky red.
Waltz to the kitchen, happy its payday.
Brew up some coffee that turns out right, lukewarm.
Check the time then sprint down the hallway.
Oops, you’re too late as your children swarm.
Just go drink your coffee, you’re already late.
Well there goes the peace and its only eight.
Now you sit and wait for your kids to evacuate.
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Author:
mbmendez73 (
Offline) - Published: March 30th, 2017 01:33
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 27
Offline)
Comments2
A WARM WELCOME TO MPS ~ Love the style and structure and the subject of YOUR FIRST POEM ! Take heart MB ~ it's just a phase of about 25 years and THEN (hopefully ~ unless you're Italian) they all flee the nest and live 100's of miles away and only return (with heir own brood) after divorce ! In the UK the only really happy and smug people are the well heeled PENSIONERS ~ that's something for us all to look forward to ! BRIAN (UK) Please check my poems ~ Thanks B
Well written and expressed Great write
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