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 calm ways.
Why must they go rampant in the first place?
Church is like a sport to them
And they must catch every play.
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.
YOU ARE READING
Revisiting my thoughts: Poem from within [Vol 4] *RE-EDITS IN PROGRESS*
RandomVarious themed poems inspired by real life, relatable and personal experiences and topics. ***Disclaimer: Any media used is not owned by this author