Living...new poem

I wake up in the morning

I praise God

I look outside

I check my phone

I lay in bed a little while longer

I fall back into a coma deep sleep

I wake up again

Give God another shout out

And start the day...

This is my daily pattern

This is also my daily struggle

I'm focused on the big things but its the little things that count

I wonder what my day would consist of as a mother, a philanthropist, activist, feminist, a politician, a protester, a social worker, a laborer in a sweatshop, a beautician, a beauty queen...ha

Would I grasp the picture depicted to me on a daily or would I be wishing or rather praying for my daily as a child would in a third world country?

I walk to the corner store to get something to eat

Say hi to the Japanese owner Ms. Lee

Walk back to the house

Taking a look at the sky and sweating in this humidity

Crack jokes till night falls

Walk upstairs

Take a shower

Walk to my room

Close the light and let the AC blast till the day starts over again

...and I call this living?

I have yet to experience such a thing.

b.poetic