If I cannot walk, I’ll crawl

Backs bent
from being trampled
by the world
but we don’t give up,
we still keep going.
Wings broken
from fighting
against the wind
but we don’t give up,
we still keep trying.
Spirits shattered
from constant
opposition
but we don’t give up,
we still keep crawling.

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The path your feet will take

Each of us have a path
with our name written
on it’s dusty tread.
Each path is full of stones
and twists and turns.
Your lungs may burn,
your ankles might break,
but it is the path you feet will take.

Healing sunrise

The rosy, golden edges of sunrise

peeking over the lightening horizon.

The birth of another morning,

the birth of another day.

She lifts her face into the wind,

lets the light wash over her

and make her clean and pure

and she too is born again.

Frost covered trees

If only we were as hardy as the frozen trees
whose ice coated branches
wave and gently tinkle in the breeze.
We humans, though, resemble grass,
too weak to withstand
the onslaught of the frost
then shamefacedly creeping back
when spring returns at last.

Mother & Father

Mother,

just another name

for the woman that births you

and hurts you.

Father,

just another name

for the man that holds you

and scolds you.

Parents,

just a title for two flawed people

who will ruin an innocent child

no matter how hard they try.

Wingless bird

It’s a wonder, after all the falling that I do
that I haven’t yet grown wings.
That I haven’t learned to fly.
Every plummet that I take,
every breath-stealing mistake,
feels as if I’ve never tripped and fell before.

 

Manmade Miracles

She makes her own miracles.

She answers her own prayers.

No God broke her manacles,

no angels dressed her in liberty,

or crowned her with divinity.

Manna didn’t come down from heaven.

Nor water from the rock.

All her miracles are manmade,

created and manufactured

by her own determination.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Storm within

My inside mirrors

the outside of my house.

The wind that blows,

the wind that shakes,

the wind that never stops.

My inside mirrors

the outside of my house.

The snow that falls,

the snow that buries,

the snow that stays too long.

My inside mirrors

the outside of my house.

The storm that breaks,

the storm that screams,

the storm that drowns me out.

 

 

Six word story #5: Unwanted gifts

Their faults are my unwelcome inheritance.

I should probably explain this SOW, as the meaning might not be entirely clear. To me, it explores the idea that we as kids, learn from our parents subconsciously. If our parents tend to yell, or be easily irritated, we too might pick up these habits without even meaning to. I can see it in my own life and I’m sure many of you can as well. I hope you enjoyed the story. XX 

Death is the Only God

Death is the only god that
gives us proof of his existence.
Death is the only god that
is in any way consistent.
Death is the only god that
listens to our prayers.
Death is the only god that
doesn’t pretend to care.

I’m actually very proud of how this one turned out. I’ve been experimenting with traditional style poetry lately, and I love the end results. I still love well-written modern poetry, but there’s something about a good ol’ fashioned poem that just enchants me. Enjoy. XX