six a.m. her eyes popped wide open,
stretching her body, she closed her eyes for a a few minutes to
adjust her mind and prepare herself for another dreaded Wednesday working day:
"oh gosh, mid-week" she grumbled.
six thirty a.m. her kitchen was filled
with the smell of sweet honeyed french toast (with a slight smell of overcooked eggs).
she packs them nicely into her paper bag:
"hope it won't sog up fast" she thought.
six fifty-six a.m. her bus arrives promptly,
the commuters seemed oblivious to her
they start nudging and pushing their way up the bus:
"i'm in black and so i'm invisible?" she questioned.
seven o'one a.m. her seat has finally warmed up,
her hair was still damp from her morning shower,
and she looks to the front blankly:
"what's new" she mumbled.
n.y.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 3:15 AM UTC
six a.m. her eyes popped wide open,
stretching her body, she closed her eyes for a a few minutes to
adjust her mind and prepare herself for another dreaded Wednesday working day:
"oh gosh, mid-week" she grumbled.
six thirty a.m. her kitchen was filled
with the smell of sweet honeyed french toast (with a slight smell of overcooked eggs).
she packs them nicely into her paper bag:
"hope it won't sog up fast" she thought.
six fifty-six a.m. her bus arrives promptly,
the commuters seemed oblivious to her
they start nudging and pushing their way up the bus:
"i'm in black and so i'm invisible?" she questioned.
seven o'one a.m. her seat has finally warmed up,
her hair was still damp from her morning shower,
and she looks to the front blankly:
"what's new" she mumbled.
n.y.
Request permission to use this poem