It’s
Monday morning at 7:01.
You’re
still half asleep; your homework’s half done.
Your
shower is cold; your oatmeal’s dry.
Your
mother forgets to kiss you good-bye.
You’re
walking to school; it’s thirty degrees.
Your
fingers won’t work; your toes and ears freeze.
Your
zipper is stuck; your left sneaker squeaks.
Your
backpack strap snaps; your soup thermos leaks.
You slip
on school steps; you trip in the hall.
The
toilet floods in the bathroom stall.
The gym
door is locked; library’s the same.
The
principal greets you by the wrong name.
Your
classroom is hot; the coat rack is packed.
Your bean
sprout is dead; your clay pot is cracked.
Your
pencils are dull; the sharpener jams.
Your
fingers get crunched when your desktop slams.
Your math
partner’s gone; your neighbor is rude.
Your
teacher’s again in a crabby mood.
The
morning bell rings; it is 8:01.
Come cozy
up to the whiteboard,
Another
school day’s begun.