With drooping eyes
And hair running wild,
Covered in blankets
In the winter, so mild.
Under the torch light
Sneaking up to read a book.
All the stories of lore
Have got me shook.
Just one more chapter,
I think once again.
Mum doesn't understand!
It's all in vain.
I don't listen,
I never do.
That's how I finish a book
In an hour or two.
Lying awake at night,
Thinking why I'm such a fool.
Another book hangover,
I'll probably be late for school.
Sleeping in class,
Distracted in tuition.
Calling my name
Snaps me out of this illusion.
A/N Story of my life and basically everyone who's reading this.
YOU ARE READING
Wings [Poetry]
PoetryWords are the bricks. The feeling is the foundation. Together, they are the home of a heartfelt poem. ***** "Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion our most inexhaustible source of magic." - Albus Dumbledore
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