Another school morning

The morning light caresses the sleeping Earth like a gentle mother's touch,

Trees still in darkness slowly yawn and stretch in the October wind ready for another day.

The birds begin their early morning song like a group of teenagers in a classroom when the teacher is absent,

The sky is streaked with pale yellows and blues; an artist sits upon a cloud and trails his brush to create such wonders.

"We are going to be late!" I cry as we run through the forest overgrowth pulling at our school uniform,

My friend nods her dark brunette hair getting tangled twice around some thorns.

"It is only science" she reminds me making me laugh,

"Yes but I would rather be there instead of this chilly air!"

Soon we reach the large school building, which reminds us more of a prison.

Teachers prowl the perimeter with walkie-talkies in had narrowing their eyes waiting for students who dare to be late.

Quickly we slip in unseen

And begin another school day