The Forgetful Departure

Five times I've marched towards the door,

With keys in hand, prepared to soar.

But halt! My phone's still on the stand,

I rush to grab it with a flustered hand.

Out again, I'm nearly free,

Oh no, my wallet! Can't you see?

Back I go, a little sigh,

This time I'll make it right.

Third attempt, I'm feeling bold,

But where's my coat? It's rather cold.

A quick retrieve, then off I dart,

Surely now, I'll finally depart.

Fourth leave-taking, spirits high,

I've got this, no need to be shy.

But wait, my glasses? Blurry sight,

I need them to drive into the night.

Fifth farewell, I'm at the brink,

I've got everything... or so I think.

My hat! My head shall go unadorned,

Back inside, feeling quite scorned.

At last, I stand, a weary host,

To all the items I need the most.

I laugh, resign to my cozy space,

Home sweet home, my forgetful place.

***

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