Yawn
Stretch
Hit the alarm
Next
Stare at the number
Ponder wonder
What
How
Shower
Now
Then
Shorts
No patients for pants
Flip flops no to time to tie
Take another glance
At the number
Did I really
But I thought
Maybe it’s
But I just bought
My hands move faster
Then those hands
Because of those hands
Too late now I’m too late
It’s a quarter past eight
And I ain’t even ate
Man I hate being late
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem