That One Morning
By: Emma Bank
Lying in bed,
glancing at the window.
I could tell that light was trying to seep slowly into my room yet kept getting blocked by the infamous clouds.
“You really thought you could get in?!
Ha!”
“Oh, look who’s talking. You couldn’t get in even if you TRIED.”
“Oh yeah? WATCH.”
*grunts*
“Well, yeah maybe not.”
“Mhmmm. I told you. You and your puffiness are too big.”
“Mhm. Thanks. And you and your rays are too blinding. My eyes melt when I see you if I don’t close them on time.”
“Pfft. And those who look at you have the feeling of crying like a baby, so shush.”
“Oops sorry I can’t hear you over that loud pop of yellow that I just heard.”
“And I can’t see through the darkness that YOU have created!”
“Whatever.”
*rolls eyes*
Blinked twice,
Found myself giggling as I got out of bed.
glancing at the window.
I could tell that light was trying to seep slowly into my room yet kept getting blocked by the infamous clouds.
“You really thought you could get in?!
Ha!”
“Oh, look who’s talking. You couldn’t get in even if you TRIED.”
“Oh yeah? WATCH.”
*grunts*
“Well, yeah maybe not.”
“Mhmmm. I told you. You and your puffiness are too big.”
“Mhm. Thanks. And you and your rays are too blinding. My eyes melt when I see you if I don’t close them on time.”
“Pfft. And those who look at you have the feeling of crying like a baby, so shush.”
“Oops sorry I can’t hear you over that loud pop of yellow that I just heard.”
“And I can’t see through the darkness that YOU have created!”
“Whatever.”
*rolls eyes*
Blinked twice,
Found myself giggling as I got out of bed.
Writer's Statement: As I wake up in the morning, I typically would look at my window and see the sun attempting to brighten my room. One of those mornings had been sunny and cloudy, giving me the idea to write the poem “That One Morning”, describing the sun's argument with the clouds.