Clever Girl

My crack at a slightly more mature style of poetry...

Wake. Take an hour for breakfast.
Watch the telly, detached
from that world, and it could be her
one day.
Life
scares her rigid.
Makes the stomach turn
and the hands shake and the eyes close and the tears run.
She doesn’t know why.
Return from the sun and its pleasantly cool
in here, throws her pile of books
at the floor and with anxious reluctance
returns to her studying,
writing,
remembering,
only a few more to go.
She’d a friend that had lost her mum,
and a boyfriend that lost his mind while she sat
in here, in her wonderful house
“you’re so lucky”.
She’d a coach that expected the best
and her teachers predicted it too.
She felt falsely revered by the rest
“you’re so lucky”
it’s true
that it’s so hard to be
a clever girl.