I see the sun through a crack in my window;
its seductive glow lures me outside.
The taunting noise of kids playing
distrcats me from my the precious work.
It stares back at me as
my glare burns a hole through.
The smell of the rustic wooden desk
I lean on makes the butterflies
in my stomach take flight.
“Focus” the angel on my shoulder commands.
Instantly, my eyes study the words on my paper.
“Leave it, go play” my inner whispers.
Once more, sounds of swings creeking
and pedals turning wander into my ears.
I can almost feel the sun burn my pale shoulders,
almost. Yet again my paper instructs me.
Highlight here, write there. I must obey.
It slowly bends my will, breaking
it piece by piece. One more,
one more line, and the blue
sky can consume my soul.