The Storm

 

Walking backwards I will stumble

Along this broken path

Lost in branches of memories

In the storm that is my past

The clouds are in the distance

But they hover still in view

Full with drops of misery

Unable to be made new

If I let them wash over me

Will I be cleansed of my mistake

Or will I drown in their humidity

As I relive my heartbreak

I must turn away

For these branches will not bend

Turn around and find out

How to start again

I will grow new branches

In the sunlight they'll grow long

                                                                     Because the storm behind me

                                                                                              It has made me strong

Inspired by The Mag

Tinkerella

I tried to be a fairy princess
Tinkerbell and Cinderella
Happily ever after in a dream
My shoe fell off as I ran against the clock
Though all the lost boys clapped at midnight
My carriage turned back into a pumpkin
Peter is still in love with Wendy
My house is broken

Inspired by The Mag 

Perspective

Some would call this home
Others, an adventure
Travelers and dwellers can tell of its secrets
For me it is a possibility
A far away place I might one day get to explore
A treasure I look forward to finding

Inspired by Magpie Tales 

We Must Evolve

There was a young white boy in my train car today
Wearing rich fabrics with wealth to display
His father put him on, wishing him good travels
Never meeting my eye, lest society unravel
"Young Master," I asked, "What would you like?"
He looked into my eyes, said to call him Mike.
"Have a seat while I look," he said to me.
"No sir," I replied. "Best I stand, you see?"
Young boys like him, spoiled at best
They don't think I know that this is a test
But then something happened I didn't understand
He looked up at me with the wisdom of a man
"You can rest," he said, "and we'll ignore our exteriors.
I won't be a white boy. You won't be inferior."
I stood in that train car, declining to sit.
I stood in awe of a young man's wit.
I kept on my roll, lest society crumble.
But inside me surged hope from a young boy, so humble.

Inspired by Magpie Tales
 

The Closest Connection

 


The closest connection we've ever had
wasn't through cellphones or texts or iPads
The convenience of technology comes at a cost
where personal physical face-to-face is lost.
Offices, computers, screens where we hide
Do we ever look up to see the outside?
In nature we began, made out of clay
too muddy for us now, clean we must stay
But at our cleanest the connection was clearer
outside, in The Garden when our creator was nearer


Inspired by Magpie Tales