Wrapped In a Warm Blanket a.k.a. Procrastinating
Listen to that pitter-patter
a chill rain hits my window sill.
I sit here
criss-cross applesauce
drowning my stress
as the steam from my tea
brushes against my face.
Here I am happy,
here I am calm.
Here the weight of the world
can do me no harm.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world