rose bough
I’m still trying to flush them away:
The distracting voices that I can’t seem to sway
Falling behind my peers,
I’m still trying to finish every school essay
Oiling up my brain’s rusted gears
Just so I can catch up to them, at the end of the day
I give the entire ocean,
But they perceive it as nothing more than a puddle
Asking for a “thanks” will only cause a commotion
They say I don’t have enough will, not enough devotion.
What are my words worth?
I second the motion.
Anyways, I’ve had rusted gears since birth.
These teardrops I’m wiping,
These deadlines I’m chasing,
But then, I realized.
I never started typing.