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Daily Routine
June 10, 2015
My mom looks at me every day,
Gives me this look first thing in the morning,
All I do is crash on the sofa and hope for the best,
When it passes, off to school I go without much rest.
I get to class,
And simply crash,
My mind in disarray,
Waiting for the day to pass away.
Back home I go,
Off to my trusty sofa I flow,
Only to be blocked by a giant dam,
One that is my mom.
We do this every day,
But only to my dismay,
Whatever shall I do,
To break free of my curse?
© Devin N., Sherrills Ford, NC
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I love my mom but I wish she lets me relax a bit more.