"More than you love yourself."
Written by me, but from my mother's perspective, before she passed away.
Today you start school.
All caught up,
Green checks on every lesson.
You don’t even have to set
Your alarm for the morning
Because you’re up and ready
To go on with the day
And you’re on top of things
Like you’re on top of the world.
It’s your second week of school.
You’re a few lessons behind,
But it’s okay because
It’ll be so easy to catch up on them
And you’ll do it this weekend.
You’re waking up a few minutes late,
Hitting that snooze button,
But just once,
Only once.
And it’s okay,
Because you’ll make it.
You’re a month in, now.
You’re thirty lessons behind
You wake up two hours
After you should be awake
You say “Yeah, I did school all day”
When you just sat there
Playing your video games
Thinking to yourself
“I’ll do it tomorrow.”
You’re two months in.
One hundred lessons behind
Waking up at lunch time
When you should be eating
Not going outside because
“It’s too cold”
“I’m working”
“I’ll go out later”
You’ve pushed away friends
Ignored family
Turned to the online world
Because where else would you go?
You’re four months in.
Finals are tomorrow
But you’re on unit one
And your internet history
Is a repetition
Of YouTube videos
And Facebook posts
Along with chat rooms
And maybe,
If you’re lucky,
A motivational video,
A poor excuse of a try
To get back on track
When what you should be doing
Is clicking the ‘X’
On the hundreds of tabs
Opening the website
For your school
Pulling out your notes
And putting your nose
To the grindstone.
Stop making excuses
Because those excuses
Will pile up like your lessons
Like snowflakes
Thousands of little excuses
There to make you feel
Better about yourself
Until there’s a pile of snow
Blocking your road
And you’re wondering
“Where did that come from?”
When all along,
Its origin was your mind.
It’s a quarter to midnight.
You’ve been awake
For the past seven days,
Doing more than
Your fair share of work
Because you put this off
To the very last minute.
When the clock strikes twelve,
What you have done
And what you haven’t done
Will be out there
For the world to see.
Your GPA,
Your grades,
Your career?
Don’t make me laugh.
Appreciate that I have a basement
In which you can live in
Because I love you,
Truly.
More than you love yourself.