I sit alone
On my bedroom floor
Sitting, staring at the door.
The clock is ticking
The grains of sand fall
But nothing has been done.
Stacks of papers
They lean against my wall
Day after day
The only thing done with them
Is placing assignments on one another
I continue to sit there
More time flies
And any motivation I had
Just dies
I move to my desk
Stare at a page (that's bare)
And I contemplate about
Cutting my hair
Time's relentless march
Pushes by
Still, nothing has been done.
I sketch a person
A dog
A cat
A pair of headphones
I could do my homework
UGH anything but that.
Now it's 8 in the morning
No work has been done.
And I wasted my time;
I wasn't even having any fun
When it's time to hand up my homework
What's my excuse?
Trying to come up with one
is no use
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryLike most of these are vent poems. Comment if you want. Or don't. WARNING: May be sensitive topics, such as SH
