3rd Quarter Blues

I went to bed,

Groaning with pain.

Wake up early morning,

Time to do it all again.

Pouring my breakfast,

Watching the spoon sink in.

Tell me, why the punishment?

What’s my sin?

Going to school,

Wasting my life away.

Listening to gossip, droning,

Same effects, different day.

Picking up my bag,

Heading towards the door.

Keep telling myself,

“I can’t take this anymore”.

Turning my head,

Longing for my bed.

Is it better to exist not live?

Or just to be dead?