Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Eleanor Feb 11
I sleep on sheets covered in beer and carry boxes of bottles to the trash room, boxes and sheets and smells that could get me in trouble with the people who wear uniforms
And I put my head on the shoulder beside me and everything is sweat and stale alcohol and three am and I was supposed to do more homework tonight. I was supposed to get more done and go to bed so much earlier.
But here I am, tired and lying beneath Kenyan blankets, atop Blue Moon covers, lightly taking your phone off your chest and setting it away as you slip into sleep beside me
Here I am, bringing you trash bags I bought with my own money, carrying a box of illegalities I didn’t drink to the recycling, leaning into your flanneled embrace in the Sunday morning quiet of the hallway

I will take care of you, no questions asked
I will always take care of you

Before sleep’s waves, in the dark, holding my hand to yours and telling you that I am here to talk— and knowing you will never take me up on it.
Asking you questions because it’s my job, and you say I do it too well, and we both know that that avoids the question in the first place.

I will take care of you, asked questions unanswered
It is 3 am on a Sunday, and I will take care of you
Always.
Bansi Adroja Feb 10
You stand in the school yard
waiting for the bell to ring
for the day to disappear
they tell you not to
wish away your life
but you want to be someone
outside of those gates

These will be the days
you ant back later in life
they tell you
but you're not so sure

They don't tell you
about 9am tedium
hours spent in traffic
endless forms about taxes

Days lost behind your desk
watching the clock
wishing for the day to end
as you keep your head above
the bills, deadlines
and desperately needed alone time
A Poem a Day: Sunday Blues
Aureliano Feb 3
The moment our eyes met
I knew you were it
With the way you silenced
My deafening mind with just
A look at your face
The way your smile lit up the empty space
And your eyes had shown me the sky
When our hands first intertwined
I felt the
That I had never felt before
When you first said
I love you
Your eyes watered with tears
My heart warmed at the sight
I could not describe
The love I felt for you
That night
When we laid in our bed
Your hair would fall
And I would brush it away
As I memorized your beauty
And I knew that I never wanted to forget
Such a breathtaking face
The moment our eyes met
My mind was a disturbing mess
You were wearing a yellow dress
And I knew you were
My quiet in a loud world
Romance
was us laying in bed
listening to French classics
as the warm summer breeze
made the white curtains frolic
on a Sunday afternoon
Pandora Feb 3
I've decided to keep a sort of journal....
Telling you all about what happens in my life as a Middle-Schooler.
I call it...The Apocalypse
Follow me to stay up-to-date on when i post these.
Can you help me survive...The Apocalypse?
-----------------------------------------------------­----------------------------------------
Day 1
It's Sunday, tomorrow we go back to school...hopefully.
We've had multiple days off due to weather.
Im beginning to wonder if we will ever go back.
I MIGHT DIE IF I DON'T TALK TO SOMEONE SOON
Please...send help.
(And send someone to do my homework)

~Pandora
DAY 1
THE APOCALYPSE
Silver lined skies
hues of powder blue
looking through
the passenger window
on the road to nowhere
Sunday morning drives
with my father
On the hills of old Dublin the wind blows from the east
On the hills of old Dublin we gather for a feast
On the hill of old Dublin stands a village with ladies so fair
On the hills of old Dublin the priest stands in prayer
For we are the chosen...
For we hold the crest
For the solders of old Dublin will always be oppressed
On the hills of old Dublin we lay them to rest
On the hills of old Dublin forever will they be blessed
The brave sons of Dublin whose voices are gone
The brave sons of Dublin with battle lines drawn
The brave sons of Dublin whose courage is known
The brave sons of Dublin who stand as stone
A cheer to the fallen...a cheer to their name...for the solders of England is who are to blame. A sip of old whisky... a sting in the throat...for every glass emptied is another line wrote.
Mae Jan 22
a melody whispered,
it was beautiful and not blistered.
a deep song,
through my ears you sang.
~
how wonderful it was,
to hear your voice.
soft and smooth.
the song has a nice message too.
~
remained.
the lyrics it had.
a beautiful memory.
happened on a sunday morning.
Haylin Jan 21
Monday
Oh how I dread you
Can you just go away for one more day

Tuesday
You could be anything or nothing at all
You're just Tuesday

Wednesday
**** DAY
I finally get to look forward to the weekend

Thursday
The day before Friday
Anything could happen, but it wouldn't count

Friday
The most annoying day because of Rebecca Black
But it means we have 2 days of no *******

Saturday
Thank you for no school
But sadly you go by too fast

Sunday
Ruined because you know tomorrow is Monday
The one day I remember to do my homework
Sunday goodbyes are hardest to say
but Love, we'll speak another day
week spent missing you
I promise we'll make it through
so, lets dry our eyes
and say our Sunday goodbyes
Next page