Late For School
People running in such a hurry.
Snow falling in sudden flurry.
People running against time.
They are all pushing.
I slip. I fall.
I am full of grime.
I pick myself up and start to run,
going towards something supposed to be fun.
We all load up.
We don't know who's supposed to go in who's car.
After a time of pushing and shoving,
but all still loving,
we settle on our way,
finally past the hardships of morning day.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Late For School by Danya Qattea )
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