The Shorter Days

The Shorter Days


Sitting in a classroom,

Staring at the clock;

Why does the day feel

So long?


As I rest my head

On the palm of my hand,

The reveries 

Are what makes the day feel

So short.


I find my head

In the palm of my head,

The bell rings to tell me

Something new


And then it hit me;

The days do, indeed,

Get shorter

But if I keep up, the shorter

Will be my worries.


This poem is about: 
My community
Our world


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741