Industry take 2 (an acrostic poem)

 

It is all about you, trust us

Now get to work and push through the pain

Don’t you know when we do well you do well

Until there is a downturn

Still, don’t worry about that.  We will always be successful

That’s why we need you to work so hard

Really, get back to work, we have your back

Your severance package will be exciting

 

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Stack (an acrostic poem)

 

So many things piled on

The weight of carrying it all made her hunch her shoulders and hurt her back

Almost bringing her to her knees with white-hot daggers of pain

Carrying all those troubles may be crippling, but

Keeping them away from her family was her salve

 

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Scent (an acrostic poem)

 

Smelling your perfume on your pillow lingering with me in bed

Covers draped over my chest like your arm was

Every memory of you comes flooding back

Now you’re gone, so I get up and give your pillow another spritz.

That way I can wake up to you again tomorrow.

 

Image: ceramics.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/05/05-24-perfume-bottle.jpg

Raise (an acrostic poem)

 

Remembering all that has been lost

As well as all that we have gained

It is times like these that balance looking forward and back

Seeing this particular snapshot in each of our lives

Entices us to lift our glasses in a toast.  Here’s to you, my reader.

 

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Flip (an acrostic poem)

 

Feeling like a coin spinning through the air

Listing endlessly from heads to tails and back again

It makes for an uncomfortable situation and fills those around you with apprehension.

Perhaps instead of chocolate or vanilla soft serve,  you might settle on your edge, twist!

 

Image:  sites.google.com/site/ciese07030/_/rsrc/1272031766806/Home/coin-flipping-probabilities/coin-flipping.jpg

Chill (an acrostic poem)

 

Cold hands touched his back

He couldn’t help himself.  He flinched.

It broke the moment, and after an awkward pause she left

Leaving him alone with only half his plans for the night

Luckily Netflix wasn’t as judgey

 

Image:  rush.edu/sites/default/files/styles/hw_670x475/public/cold-hands-and-frigid-digits.jpg

Furry (an acrostic poem)

 

Fraser combed his arm hair against the grain

Unleashing waves of golden amber hair to crash back upon hardened muscle

Rays of sunlight danced upon the same golden coat covering his back

Really he figured he should shave some of it off

Yet there was the fun of the mystique of being part werewolf that he enjoyed

 

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Weed (an acrostic poem)

When you burst through the cracks of society

Everyone thinks you need to be pruned back

Everything must go back to the “good old days”

Don’t let them tread on you.  Grow strong and bloom.  Let your beauty shine!

 

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Tread (an acrostic poem)

The sensation of someone’s foot stomping down on her was all too real

Reducing her to a bundle of pulsating overstimulated nerves

Even getting out of bed on those days was met with dread

And yet she kept working on surviving day after day

Damned if she wasn’t willing to bite back

 

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