Twenty Eight Days Poem by Sandra Santana Rivera
Twenty Eight Days
These days haven't been good...
The sunshine pours through my window but my living room seems dark
A friend smiles at work and says hello and my face just stays blank
Stack of papers on my desk and I can't read anything
It is time to go and I keep staring at my watch.
Get home, forget to eat dinner in the microwave
Go to bed, stay awake, dreading another day.
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8/28/2026 7:23:02 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
