The Longest Day: Letter 4

It’s the longest day
But here all days seem the same
They’re drawn out and dull
Locked behind our doors
Short staffed again
Buzzers ringing
The echo of “are we being let out”

There’s always something
Now this day is upon us
We can’t miss the best part of the day
Can’t sleep now
My room is too bright
And it’s only 7

The nights will start drawing in
Before we know it, summers over
We’ll start going to bed early
There’s not much else to do
That’s why I write this for you

READ ON --> THE LONGEST DAY: LETTER 5