Peace flees from me
As I am woken by anger.
The yellow day turns gray.
What is over is my slumber.
"God's holy day" starts at home with noise.
The bickering.
The screaming.
Why are these days sour in its wake?
Sundays are crazy.
This routine I face is lame.
The parentals prepare to leave
With no trace of grace.
Then, come back in semi calm ways.
Why must they go rampant in the first place?
Church is like a sport to them
And they must catch every timely play.
Rushing,
Tumbling,
Crashing.
My peace returns when they leave,
So I can prepare
To gather at the house they make this day towards.
He and I will have lots to talk about.
Once again
And always.
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Revisiting my thoughts: Poem from within [Vol 4]
PoetryA collection of original, personal, and artistic poems. Inspired by various real world themes and subjects. ***Disclaimer: I do not own any media that was used along with these original poems.
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