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:
Me
My community
Our world