For the Plays

The sun has barely risen,

Do i crawl out of bed?

I have to make a decision.

Should i just play dead?

 

My bed is so comfortable,

And my class is so cold.

If I were able,

I'd stay in bed till i grew old.

 

Time is passing, 

And still I lay.

I'll need coffee or I'll be crashing 

By just mid-day.

 

I stretch my arms,

And plant my feet on the floor.

I dress in something warm,

And I'm out the door.

 

I swing my backpack over my shoulder,

for the millionth time.

Each day I get older,

But then a thought comes to my mind.

 

A few years from now,

I'll be living my dream,

In a theater, in a town

Working the lighting machine.

 

Dramatic lighting

For plays and shows.

Like Mary Poppins, or The Lion King,

Or Anything Goes.

 

So that is my reason

For rising each day.

No matter how harsh the season,

I'll do it for the plays.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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