Fed up.

I'm sick of doors being left wide open,

and there only being me left in the room

to get up and close it.

I'm sick of the leaves blowing into my garden,

and building up in that same corner and

there's only me left to rake them up.

I'm sick of sitting in the porch for the ice cream van

but instead, I'm just all alone 

listening to the distant tune.

I'm sick of having to write how I feel in words

in this little book instead of just standing up and

screaming out loud.