Three Days

Thu, 08/03/2017 - 21:19 -- Bei.90

Tears down my cheeks

run in streaks. 

All the time I wasted,

72 hours to be exact. 

481 pages more to complete.

Yet I compose a poem instead. 

It's not my fault I couldn't finish, it's my guests.

Now I listen to music in Spanish and cry some more. 

Think about the five days I have left to annotate the rest.

How could this happen?

Niece had Disney Channel on all day and I sit next to the T.V.

I could hear it in my head, when I was supposed to have Invisible Man in my head.

I couldn't concentrate.

But they're guests. So I didn't say anything. I tried. I really did.

The second day was the same. The third, no. 

I was in my room to try something different. 

I left the T.V. sound on a lower volume, but my niece turned it up. 

I could hear it in my room while I tried to read.

Then she came in, and would ask me questions, or try and scare me.

I'm doing homework, but I guess she doesn't care.

I don't need them spraying bad reviews about me.

So I smile and laugh and keep a happy face on for three days. 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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