Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2018
The cicadas were chirping
(or maybe screaming)
moments ago.
It was a nice sound,
if bittersweet.

This morning I said
“summer mornings are nice.
I never enjoy them as much as I should.”

I did today and and I want to now.

I don’t want to spend the last day of summer
alone,
in my room,
waiting.

Saying I’m doing something
but really,
all I do in here
is wait.
Written by
DM00  18/F
(18/F)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems