I wonder why I can’t get up on my bed,
I can’t even move an inch,
What time is it? Never mind, it’s still six,
I switched to pulled up my thick red blanket,
Comfortable it is, what a sleepyhead!
Mom, what’s that smell?
I opened my eyes to savor it well,
Wait, is it coffee? Wait, I can’t tell,
Oh, yes it is! It’s seven o’clock, get out on your shell.
Sorry to my bed, for now, it’s a farewell.
I get up but somehow I felt cold,
I wanted to take my blanket with me but it was already rolled.
I just walk to my closet, get my jacket, and put it on.
I wonder why it’s dark, so, I peeped on my window’s hole,
“It’s a sad weather”, then the forecaster told.
Into the kitchen, I got hungry as I get neared,
Good morning, Mom, what have you prepared?
A hot coffee on the table and a sliced of bread,
I want some bacon and eggs to spread,
Mom said, “Eat up, hun, suit yourself”.
I love that sound, is that a water fountain?
Maybe not, we don’t have it, that would be insane.
Perhaps, raindrops? Yes, I am certain!
That familiar sound again,
I love that. That’s the sound of the rain.
A 22-year old female aspiring to be a poet. Willing to be corrected, welcomes critics, and ready to grow. She needs your help to prove herself that her dreams will be real, very soon.