39 Minutes

I could write a poem. Ok, maybe I’ll just clean my room. I don’t want my room to be messy. In fact, I’d rather it be empty. I could curl my hair for the first time. I could make a sandwich. I could remember. I could do a lot in 39 minutes. I’m young. That’s all they say. I could just sleep if I wanted. The room is empty now. It’s clean and empty. I can blink, but it doesn’t do much for me. Young, too young… Everyone is working so hard, While I sleep in. I could write. Not with a pen or even words. I could write a poem in 39 minutes. That’s all I have. I’m 21 years, two days, and 39 minutes old. I’m young. And that’s all.