"More than you love yourself."

Written by me, but from my mother's perspective, before she passed away.

 

Today you start school.

All caught up,

Green checks on every lesson.

You don’t even have to set

Your alarm for the morning

Because you’re up and ready

To go on with the day

And you’re on top of things

Like you’re on top of the world.

 

It’s your second week of school.

You’re a few lessons behind,

But it’s okay because

It’ll be so easy to catch up on them

And you’ll do it this weekend.

You’re waking up a few minutes late,

Hitting that snooze button,

But just once,

Only once.

And it’s okay,

Because you’ll make it.

 

You’re a month in, now.

You’re thirty lessons behind

You wake up two hours

After you should be awake

You say “Yeah, I did school all day”

When you just sat there

Playing your video games

Thinking to yourself

“I’ll do it tomorrow.”

 

You’re two months in.

One hundred lessons behind

Waking up at lunch time

When you should be eating

Not going outside because

“It’s too cold”

“I’m working”

“I’ll go out later”

You’ve pushed away friends

Ignored family

Turned to the online world

Because where else would you go?

 

You’re four months in.

Finals are tomorrow

But you’re on unit one

And your internet history

Is a repetition

Of YouTube videos

And Facebook posts

Along with chat rooms

And maybe,

If you’re lucky,

A motivational video,

A poor excuse of a try

To get back on track

When what you should be doing

Is clicking the ‘X’

On the hundreds of tabs

Opening the website

For your school

Pulling out your notes

And putting your nose

To the grindstone.

Stop making excuses

Because those excuses

Will pile up like your lessons

Like snowflakes

Thousands of little excuses

There to make you feel

Better about yourself

Until there’s a pile of snow

Blocking your road

And you’re wondering

“Where did that come from?”

When all along,

Its origin was your mind.

 

It’s a quarter to midnight.

You’ve been awake

For the past seven days,

Doing more than

Your fair share of work

Because you put this off

To the very last minute.

When the clock strikes twelve,

What you have done

And what you haven’t done

Will be out there

For the world to see.

Your GPA,

Your grades,

Your career?

Don’t make me laugh.

Appreciate that I have a basement

In which you can live in

Because I love you,

Truly.

More than you love yourself.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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