The ornery morning

A last-minute poem about a last-minute outburst

Photo by Zoe on Unsplash

An ornery morning
The kiddo decided
   was what was needed.
She was
   woken,
   shuffled along
   before she was ready.
She had
   aches in her belly,
   knots in her hair
   yearnings in her preteen soul
That were not being acknowledged,
Not given space
   for a non-verbal kiddo
   to speak her truth.
Not being given the weight of the world
That they so desperately deserved—
   crushes on boys
   and the same old breakfast
   and will I ever walk on my own
   and can anybody hear me
   (I mean, really hear me?)
   and it's ENOUGH ALREADY.
So
If it's too much
For me to handle
An ornery morning.
Then I'm in the wrong business.

❤️
Adam