Summer, summer — what’s the noise?
Light clothes and shirtless boys.
Pools are full, sunscreens on,
Straight hair! Makeup! All gone?
Ice cream melts before first lick,
Sweaty hands, the air feels thick.
Tea and coffee, I bid goodbye—
Orange juice prices reach sky.
Scorching heat makes minds go mad,
Don’t know why... we’re all just bad.
Power cuts and dripping taps,
No sleep and sweaty naps.
Ceiling fans spin round and round,
But no cool peace is ever found.
My room’s a cage of burning air,
The sun outside just doesn’t care.
Shoes melt into sticky roads,
Washing machines on overload.
No one’s sane, not even Mum—
She just fans herself and only hums.
About the Creator
verse voyager
✨ Storyteller | Dreamer | Poet
📚 Sharing pieces of my heart through words
💡 For more stories and emotions, find me on Wattpad @Verse_Voyager17 💛
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Comments (3)
I can feel the heat through the poem. I hate when fans blow hot air…like you had one job (to blow cool air). Excellent poem.
Experiencing those day now, UK houses, no AC, not worth it, this minute hot the next cool. truth in the words here.
This is a great depiction of summer!!! loved the rhythm, too