A new song every morning
that’s how my cell phone wakes me up.

Jazz, hip-hop, or rock and roll,
what will be the rhythm of the day?
Regardless, my routine remains the same.

In the car by 7:10
In class by 7:52
the steps are the same,
but the song is new.

Bell rings at 2:40
then I’m off to cheer.
BLUE GOLD WHITE,
FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT
The words are the same,
but the song is new.

Like a ballerina in a box I perform on cue.
Home at 5:30 dinner at 6:00,
the clock is my choreographer
as I dance through the each day.

The dance is now over
no flowers or applause,
and I wonder what song my
cell phone will play.