Bells
Every morning,
When the first bell rings,
I bite down a curse,
And try to give up sleep.
I fail, of course,
As I run down the street,
Skipping breakfast,
So that cranky old thing
Won’t win. Then,
Every 40 minutes it rings,
Like a broken record
(It’s what it’s meant to be).
On the corridor,
There is rusty crusty thing,
Obviously replaced
By the newer technology.
Close to midnight,
A child’s curiosity peaked,
She rang and called
A demon that was asleep.
-For the Bells poetry contest sponsored by Kim Rodrigues
-this is about alarms and school bells, and of course that one time a friend of mine decided to ring the very old traditional bell on the corridor in the middle of the night. Apparently someone came, asking for who it was, and blah, blah, blah. But hearing voices in the middle of the night is scary (even though it was most probably the school security guard), considering that our school is right next to a graveyard.
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