Morning Routine

Mothers Hair drying wakes him up.
Another new day has begun.
With a leap of faith he feeds the beasts.
Comes back inside and washes his feet.
The shower seems to last 5 minutes.
But when he looks he has passed his limits.
Breakfast must be skipped for the bus will glide.
Without him sitting inside.
So out the door he burst.
Book at hand, it's like a curse.
That every morning he has to repeat.
The same scenario from last week.
This simple commute is no big deal.
But after a while it makes him keel.
One morning he'd like to wake up.
Without the stress building up.
But that's life you see.
Just wait till he reaches thirty.
Then he'll wish he was back where he was.
Waking up to the blow-drying dusk.