Sh*t You Can't Say to Your Teacher - My Typical Morning
Location
Get up, run, shower,
school is in an hour.
Wait...
No! My clock is slow.
Sh*t. I'm screwed. I gotta go.
Throw powder on my face,
hope my mascara is in place,
grab my keys, sprint out the door,
unused outfits on the floor.
Speed off, risky turn,
people I cut off want me to burn.
Tires squealing, banana peeling,
taste no breakfast; I need the feeling.
Fast walk, no time to talk,
freshman always like to gawk.
Closer still. 2-3-33.
Doesn't work; plan B.
No backpacks in class,
it needs to be stashed.
Unused locker. In it goes.
Grab my books, stub my toe.
Feet in the room. Bell rings.
Not tardy. Worth the sting.