The Cost of Living

Mel wanted to be a poet for as long as she’d known how to write in cursive. Of course, it didn’t take her long to achieve that goal. Because technically anyone that writes poetry is a poet. So Mel set her eyes on being a successful one.

Mel lived alone now though, so she had to focus on maintaining a steady income to survive. She managed her money quite well but either went to sleep late or woke up early for poetry. She wished she had more time to manage with.

Her body woke up early with fresh inspiration one morning. She rushed to her desk which had her notepad already open and waiting.

I wandered, wond’ring all about

what it was like to feel so free.

So free you’d say my cost was nought

Not pound, dollar, or a penny.

Cheaper than cheap but not a toy

and expensive at the same time

Mel put her pen down. The sun was up already. Her life was such a routine that she didn’t need to check the clock on her bedside table- RING RING RING RING RING- yeah. Off to brush her teeth and have breakfast. She couldn’t be late for work.