The Day is Done

Thu, 04/29/2021 - 19:41 -- Lydia Q

The day is done

The sun is sinking into the bathtub

Flinging toys flinging joys across the sky.

The day is done

The umbrellas put away and the chickens and

cuckoos are revving up and

I can’t stand locked doors.

I’m gonna go outdoors and sing a sad

sweet sad sweet sad sweet song to the fingernail moon.

The day is done

The stars unleashed.

The day is done. The ambulances rush past, tearing the

night apart with fear and danger and warning. The

TV still blares and trash plays on the radio.

It’s like a hand grenade at my fingertips. One last cookie

and then I’ll stand on the roof and have a psychotic

fit. My class photos are disturbing. My clothes are

laid out for tomorrow. Baby dolls, I can’t sleep.

Time to pack a suitcase? Who just walked indoors?

Why am I so afraid?

The moon and stars can’t hurt me. The day is done

and the day is done and will never again back to me.


This poem is about: 
My community


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