My bagel was toasted
perfectly this morning.
Just enough crunch on
the outside without
compromising the
integrity on the inside.
Like the perfect lyrics
wrapped in the perfect beat.

The day’s playlist always
starts with breakfast.

I left the house earlier than
usual because I ironed my
clothes the night before.
Like an adult—who remembers
the structure learned as a child.
My trousers with a crease so sharp,
it could’ve cut my bagel.

What started as the best
soundtrack of the week was
remixed by the worst traffic jam ever.

I was fifteen minutes late
instead of thirty minutes early.

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Published by The Brown Sugar Café

Author of “Love Letters: A Collection of Poems” and "The Essence of Love" View all posts by The Brown Sugar Café