My Breakfast


While I'm having my breakfast

I am writing a poem about breakfast

Because Miss Willis said write a poem about

Something in your home but not a poem about love.

Me and Sweepee, my little sister,

We have breakfast together every morning

And another teacher, Mr. Swanton, he said

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day

And every body should have a good breakfast.

Sweepee, her real name is Dazire,

Watches me put the cereal and then the milk

In her bowl and she smiles, a beautiful smile.

She has a round face and big black eyes

That look like black stars in a white sky.

It is spring so the window is open and

We can hear the sounds of the naborhood

Like the buses passing by or a siren

Or a train that's not really close but

Close enough to hear.

We hear people talking, the voices but

Not the words and we just laugh together

At the sounds and have fun.

Sometimes someone shouts something

And we hear it and we laugh.

Like now a man on the street shouted

"You go to hell you son of a bitch,"

And we laughed together.

Anyway the man laughed after he said it.

So we laugh too.

I hope you like my poem about breakfast,

Miss Willis and I hope you had a good breakfast.


        Amani Jonesboro, 3-C


               John B. Manimas, March 2021

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