Clock ticking
impatiently waiting
for 3:15
to strike.
Last class
smiles ringing across
the room, eyes
never leave
the time.
Laughter fills
the last day
of the week,
Saturday plans
come to mind.
No homework
to do, nothing
to study, no
rushing Sunday night.
Last class on
a Friday,
can't wait for
the week to
say goodbye.
I opened the door to put up the Easter gel clings,
and was greeted by my childhood.
Children were playing outside, running
across the lawns on the bright
spring evening.
The silence of 11 pm
combined with the clicking of my keyboard,
rushed typing, like i
have somewhere to be.
fingers lightly tapping across
the keys when
The black and white tapestry on my ceiling
paints a subtle reflection
of the personality of my bedroom,
holding the insufferable weight
of millions and millions of stars,
some bright, some dull,
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