Same old, same old
Monday means the routine again.
Wake up�somewhat
Cuddle the pillows one last time,
A few tears dampening the sheets,
As I beg the higher powers
To send something different.
Stupid, considering the fact
That I don�t practice a religion.
Put in contacts � bad,
Since I�m half-asleep.
Poke my eye, but that�s nothing new.
Put on clothes, blasted
Annoying articles that they are.
Eyeliner, black at least,
So I can scare off the people
I�d really rather not speak to.
My hair looks like shit again.
Oh well; I�m running late.
Mom tells me my makeup is too heavy.
Whatever. Haven�t changed yet.
Damn. Didn�t do my Algebra homework.
During study hall, I suppose.
See the same people,
And I miss my real friends again.
Barely live through classes,
They�re so pointless, anyway.
Never see him, of course.
He must be gone today.
I wonder if he�s sick.
Where was I again? Oh, right.
And somehow, after the long day,
I�m out the door,
And in the car, turning the radio,
As my mom begins to gripe,
But at least I�m free,
For just a little while,
I�m safe. And until tomorrow morning,
I won�t have to cry.
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