Paint (an acrostic poem)

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Picking the right color is so important to create the correct atmosphere

A shade too dark and it puts people in a somber mood

If its too light they will feel not grounded in the space

Now if you go for a wild color, well that just causes people to go insane

That’s why the world believes in beige, and why I avoid it like the plague.

Slow (an acrostic poem)

 

So many people just passed her by

Like she was mentally standing still

Outside their assumptions were correct

When you stopped and listened, you realized she was lightyears ahead.

 

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Chaos (an acrostic poem)

Cacophony of past and future ideas

Hoarded on every flat surface of her office

A dizzying architecture of paperwork, books, and coffee mugs littered the officescape

Organized by randomness and curated by wild pixies

Still, she found the correct form in less than twenty seconds

 

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