by zoey Whitehat (novimatrem.uk)
Recently, after getting into reading more, (currently working my way through Jam by Yahtzee Croshaw again- no spoilers, I’ve read it before but I forgot what happened), I’ve thought that I needed to practice my writing, in various ways, more often. A poem is somewhat unrelated, but it was the first thing of these endeavours that I could publish.
(Feel free to read it aloud, if you’re alone. Works better that way.)
A ring, and a knock on the door, it arrives,
Followed by efforts, punctuated by sighs,
A creaking wood doesn’t help with the struggle,
nor the lacking of others, it’s always just trouble.
It’s not unexpected, but rather the task,
is more than enough, for one quite so vast.
With a few toughness filled steps she has risen,
hoping delays would just be forgiven.
Making her slow way across the hard floor,
she reaches a paw to the patterned white door.
It’s not to her shock, she’s more unsurprised,
that her package has gone, nobody in sight.
She’s used to the fact, that nobody will wait,
nor have patience for those who carry such weight.
That’s all for this post, thanks for reading! I wish you a great week.
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