Tick-tock

Scuttling home from school

and all she can think about is hopping into her bed straight away,

wrapping herself in those warm fluffy blankets,

like a cat, hiding in the shadows

Sure, the backpack she threw on the floor tries to call her name

all the unfinished work is begging to be finished

(“I’ll do it in an hour,” she says to noone.)

Tick

a minute goes by

Tock

another minute

Tick

a minute becomes an hour

Tock

that hour becomes two

The battle between the Big Ben pounding inside her head

and the excuses, excuses,

always the excuses, tormenting her mind

And when that deadline creeps up on her,

she drowns in her own feelings of guilt