On dark winter days how hard it is to get up in the wee hours of the morning and to to school on time.
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Perpetual darkness with little signs of light, I awake to a dusty dawn. Red faced, puffy cheeks, and feeling so folorn. Sleepy eyes hooded pupils see the world as inside out. Blackened shadows stare beneath the lidded fortress of my eyes. Constantly seeking my passive soul, lying in and thinking outloud in a conscious state. I wait until I hear the silver bell. Bathed and dressed, I run to the street and get my bus ride there, eating nails, stomach rolling, so I won't be late for school.
5.59 am here right now,another hour and I will wake alexandra,(just 12years)it will be then be the usual battle...nagging nagging nagging her to get out of bed,dragging her out,but this morning,due to this poem,I will look at it all with new a perspective and be able to see what's going on inside that little school girl head behind those sleepy eyelids....thank you for this fabulous poem!
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The poems in this beautifully bound book are a result of over twenty years of observations. Observations of the world around us and on the telecommunications network. All of the hate, love, heroism, disasters, and those who help.
Beautif
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I like it -- and I relate to it.
So glad those days are behind me. :)