Every Morning, I die a little inside.
The sharp beeping of my alarm clock
starts the downward spiral.
My dry mouth feels like I ate
a jar of cotton balls.
I try to fix it with a nice cup of strong coffee.
The smooth flavor fills my mouth.
I walk out into the freezing air of morning
Ready to begin my day
I stand at the bus stop, shivering,
waiting to get on the dirty smelly
exhaust spewing beast of a vehicle
I shuffle past my friends
mumbling primordial grunts
which are accepted as greetings
I go to my homeroom
and put my face on the cold hard desk.
Another day...
7 comments:
Ilove "exhaust spewing beast of a vehicle." That is probably my favorite line. Since it is smowing out I pictured how miserably cold waiting for the bus could be. Thank goodness I finally drive to school. I used to hate the bus with a burning passion. The people that live in my neighborhood, they are quiet indescribable. Lucky for me I am somewhat of a morning person, so mornings are not as brutal to me as they are to you.
I hate alarm clocks. My mom just bought me one so I wouldn't be late anymore(which I still am) and that irritating beebping just drives me crazy! I'm tempted to 'accidently' drop out of my window. Doesn't the coffee usually help wake a person up?
Great poem. You totally captured the feeling of a morning before school. I like how you said how your dry mouth felt like you swallowed a jar of cotton balls. That's such a good description for the feeling. I hate mornings, and by the looks of your poem your not a morning person either.
Alarm clocks are such a bother. Why can't we create pleasing sounds to awake to? The sound of birds chirping, seriously? A piercing gunshot to my ears, in all honesty. Coffee is always pleasant, morning or not. Sometimes I ponder if it would be a better idea taking the Toms River Connection to school everyday. It's on time, you have a warm both and it's next to Wawa. Morning voices are always a laugh.
"cold hard desk"
Amazingly true.
There is nothing more true then that.
In history every morning with Roth, I feel like Im going to die, and sleep.
Nice poem.
Very good language in it, and stuff.
I like your description of the bus ride. ^_^
Great images!! From cotton ball mouth to the beast of a bus to the face on the desk. I am there!
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