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.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Late For School by Danya Qattea )
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