Eight Thirty-OneA Poem by Christina May ShanabergI hate when this happens!
Eight Thirty-One
Suddenly, I found myself awake; When had I gone to sleep; It's eight thirty-one, But is it morning or night; Am I late for work Or should I go back to bed; I know what to do; I'll see what is on the television; With cable everything stays the same; I'll look outside at the neighbors; I can't really tell much; Are they coming or going; I could call a friend, I guess, But what would they think; You don't, even, know Whether it is night or day; I could telephone my boss And see whether he is there or not; This is absolutely crazy; Is it today or tomorrow; How long had I been asleep; I know that it is eight thirty-one; I just don't know when.
© 2011 Christina May ShanabergAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorChristina May ShanabergMount Vernon, OHAboutI am a former member of North Shore Writers' Guild in Willoughby OH. I have had numerous poems published and letters. I am, currently, working on a screen play that I hope will interest my cousin-in.. more..Writing
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