Quarantine
In total quiet, I’m camper bound,
a little scared and tightly wound.
In a fixed cycle, my routing goes round,
looking straight ahead, feet on the ground.
Up at dawn, my breakfast eatin’,
in the sun, my fort is heatin’.
I grab my book and getsta seatin’,
I'm glad my homeworks long been beaten’.
When suns straight up, I boil my water,
these ramen noodles don't get no hotter.
The flys are howlin ‘oh, we got her!’,
but I swat away, my momma's daughter.
With boredom, my brain begins to rot,
I'd be happy with a spoon and pot.
Its summer time, I crave water and yacht,
minutes tick by but there's still a lot.
The other kids talk, but it's still quiet,
I wanted a book weeks ago, why didnt I buy it?
If this is what adulthood’s like, I wanna riot!
but, I pull up my bootstrap and tie it.
I miss family bonding, so sentimental,
crazy and loud but caring and gentle.
I'd sell my spare time, stamp it with rental,
mommas afraid I might go mental.
Dinner time has come and go,
I'm glad momma still cooks for me though.
I feel lost in an ocean, to startled to row,
Quarantine has been my foe.
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.