poem by Isaac Linnen 

Time marches on ever so harshly 

I slam snooze all the same 

Returning to slumber, 

Even then I wonder, 

“Why are mornings so lame?” 

Slowly, I rise out of bed. 

Life’s sounds begin to play.  

Exit the house, subdue my fussing, 

Exit the bus, say thanks for my bussing, 

Preparing myself for the day. 

Classes confusingly confuddle my crumbling mind 

Lining long lines of linear subject like lions  

Adding to an absolute attrition on my brain. 

Sudden solace a sap like me sees in a slow day 

Seems to be the seductive thought of slumber.  

Horrendous horrors of the school day leave my mind 

Only thing in there is a good old time 

Unrelenting stress starts to cease 

Soul and heart come to peace 

Eyes close, sleeping at the midnight chime. 

Echo Literary Magazine has migrated this year to the Oracle. Students may submit their creative writing, poetry, plays, videos, photos and art to us at nsecholitmag@gmail.com.