As I lay on my horn, My patience becomes worn. I honk again, at the traffic congestion. This time it’s not a suggestion. The motorcyclist, in front of me, just flips me off. I just narrow my eyes and, under my breath, call him a jerk-off. Then checking the time on my smartphone, “I’m late for work,” I groan. I shouldn’t be worried; though, My phone then dies so, calling work now is a no-go. So, now all I can do is sit here in this traffic jam. Damn.

Waking up, I gotta sigh I wish my days would be more than a fight I put my cold feet on the ground and take the fight

If I could only tell my time to wait That I gotta need a little aid My spirits are down, and the sun won’t wait

I walk to my bathroom Oh, this day already me on the floor I wash myself, and I walked back to my bedroom

I’ve slept six hours I’ve spent it like I had powers I look on the mirror, and I couldn’t get sourier

I saw a witch The hair looking like it could itch It made me flinch

The day’s finished at 6 AM ‘Cuz I ain’t never at school in that Yuk! If at least I wore my bonnet at night!

The balance between good and bad

The fight between caring and uncaring

A choice defining us

A moment in time

A grade

An action

All small in the scheme of things

But they mean so much

Be careful
Ever so careful What you do on a day to day hour to hour minute to minute second to second

Everything adds up Creating who you are

You look back and everything’s changed Because time tics forward even when you do not

In the morning rush, what a sight to behold, A broken shoelace, all tangled and old! With each step I take, a mournful sound, Hobbling along, feeling earthbound.

Oh, the irony, the humor so dry, In this tiny mishap, a dramatic sigh. But fear not, I'll march on with flair, In this comedy of life, I'll dare to care.

For even in shoelaces' tiny schemes, There's a tale of dreams and broken seams.

It’s kind of late. This writings not great.

But I have write to today! Or my streak will run astray…

Sometimes I wonder what the point of existing is. Why do we toil daily like slaves under the harsh scalding sun? Wouldn’t we all be better off six feet under? A dark place where the sun can’t reach us. Where the perils of life can no longer torment us. Perhaps if I were dead I’d be happier, more content with my nonexistence. Perhaps then I wouldn’t have to worry about my husband leaving the toilet seat up.

Sometimes in daily life, things get tough, Not too crazy, not too rough. Just small problems that come our way, Let me tell you about one today.

A missing sock or a phone that's dropped, These things can make our patience stop. Not a big deal, just a little pain, But they can drive us a bit insane.

A slow red light when we're in a hurry, It might make us feel a little bit worry. But it's not the end, it's not a scare, Just a momentary pause, a minor affair.

The Wi-Fi goes out when we're online, It's annoying, but we'll be just fine. These little problems, though they annoy, Teach us patience and help us grow, oh boy!

A twisted ankle or a paper cut, These small hurts can make us say "what?" But they remind us we're human, you see, Even in these little things, we find our glee.

So don't get too upset, don't get too blue, These minor troubles, we all go through. In the grand picture of our life's scene, These newbie English words capture what I mean.

Step, step, bang. Feel a pang. I stubbed my toe. Feel the woe!

Then I swore At the door Twinge of pain I complain

I check for blood From the thud I stubbed my toe! I want Bordeaux…

The train is blaring its horn, angrily But the sound only puts me at ease It’s a familiar sound Like a lullaby, ringing out It tells me I’m safe and can sleep

But where are you now? Nowhere I have found And yet, I feel you’re not far

In the smallest of towns I wish your voice sounded loud as the train, so I could know where you are

© pennomoly

Rammed into the doorframe Now held up in the air I hop Pain sharp and Throbbing My mother, behind me, Asks if I’m alright Yes, I say Still clutching my foot Still stumbling Just stubbed three of my toes Well don’t do that! No one likes a show-off…