We fight everyday,
We fight like cats and dogs.
We never stop arguing,
We never stop disagreeing.
And I am thankful for all of it,
It helps me fight my inner demons,
It helps me be more acceptant,
It helps me be a better person.
This battle will never end,
And I hope not.
As without my inner voice,
I would just be a hollow shell.
She is drowning,
In a flood of her tears.
Her hand is slipping,
And so is her hope.
She claws at her subconscious,
Only to receive silence.
In those few moments,
She ages years.
She tries to escape,
Knowing that it is hopeless.
And therein lies her problem,
How can you escape the inescapable?
Let me know your interpretations in the comments below…
This is in response to Benedict Nicholson’s six word story challenge. This week’s topic is Prejudice. My entry:
Please step up to the front.
This is my first attempt at micro-poetry (poetry in 140 characters or less). Hope you enjoy!
She trips and falls
Yet she keeps her head high
Clutching on to whatever she can
Trying to be dignified
Who knew a sari could be so troublesome?
A sari is a traditional Indian garment which is elaborately draped around one’s body. I recently wore my first sari and this is basically how it went. But I still felt ‘graceful’!
Lost in the music she danced,
Danced her heart out.
Their eyes met,
Immediately he knew she was the one,
She felt it too.
She fled off to the balcony,
He followed her desperately.
She soon felt trapped.
Her heart beating fast, eyes dilating,
He couldn’t keep the smile off his face.
The music stopped.
And so did her heart.
As it lay in his hand,
Ripped from her chest.
It was all over.
He dreams of her every night,
She dreams of him every morning,
They love each other dearly.
So much so that one is the reflection of the other,
Yet they rarely meet.
Occasionally they weep for each other,
And the people down below,
The ones who separate them,
Rejoice and dance in the downpour.
Yet on the rare occasion of their meeting,
The very same people stare in awe,
As their love eclipses all.
They are separated for days on end,
By the days themselves,
Such is the sad love story of the sun and the moon.
As leaves fall all around her,
She feels lost and lonely,
Like a lone leaf, alone among many,
Broken away from the mother tree,
Yet the wind swirls around,
Trying to bring the leaves together.
Not realizing the storm it is creating.
