I live on the corner of Hope Drive,
Next to Sesame Street and Rainbow Road.
Every morning I wake up,
To the gentle envelope of my mother’s arms,
the sweet sound of my father’s serenade,
    Doodles against the sunrise on dewed up windows.​
I dress in jumpers and Goodwill Puma shoes,
Arrive to small confined learning rooms,
For some reason what matters most,,
Is how I can’t communicate with these aliens.

I live on the corner of Confusion Lane,
Next to Troubled Terrace and Argument Alley.
Every morning I wake up,
To caustic comments about my mother’s boss,
The tired grunting of my father’s aching bones,
And endless papers prowling for payment.
I care too much for what I wear,
Perhaps there’s a drug in the air.
For some reason what matters most,
Is the thickness of my frizzy hair.

I live on the corner of Reality Avenue,
Next to Conscious Crescent and Understanding Underpass.
Every morning I wake up,
To my blaring alarm,
My solitary thoughts,
And a yearning for my mother and father.
I took for granted,
What I had then.

For some reason what matters most,
 

Is how much longer I have left.