Cutting wood and working up a sweat
He fell into a rhythm that made the job almost pleasurable
Only his hands, his back, and his arms would claim otherwise
Perhaps it wasn’t pleasurable at all
Chop (an acrostic poem)
Tag Archives: cutting
Plane (an acrostic poem)
Perhaps the story was a bit too flat
Letting it feel two dimensional
Allow your characters to take off and fly
Now I would also shave off a bit here and there
Eventually cutting out all the plain.
Image: i.pinimg.com/originals/ba/56/c5/ba56c572f993123d27cafb628bdf4405.jpg
Pipe (an acrostic poem)
Perhaps smoking wasn’t the best thing for Marcus’ health
It definitely meant cutting his life significantly shorter
People had warned him not to pick up the habit
Except being a dragon hunter paid so well.
Image: i0.wp.com/cdn-prod.medicalnewstoday.com/content/images/articles/319/319359/abstract-cigarette-smoke.jpg
Crease (an acrostic poem)
Cutting and tape would be cheating
Realize the Zen of proper folding
Elephants and cranes made of paper
As fingers show off their dexterity
Solemnly teasing out a third dimension from two
Evoking the surreal as its goal
Image: live.staticflickr.com/1927/44575115625_8844491fe1_b.jpg
Price (an acrostic poem)
Purchasing liberty through sacrifice
Red stained trails through foreign lands
It fulfilled a solemn oath
Cutting freedom away from the oppressor’s grasp
Ensuring another day for democracy
Image: api.time.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/09/american-flag-wind.jpg
Scar (an acrostic poem)
So much cutting in her past
Cuts that let blood and tears flow equally freely
All that was in the rear view mirror now
Rachel wore their history as a testament that there is a future
Image: hypnotherapists.org.uk/cms/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/selfharm.jpg
Miracle (an acrostic poem)
Misha looked back over the waves
In the distance, she could still see the fires on the shore
Reaching out, she placed a comforting hand on Herb
After everything, the two of them had been through
Cutting ties with their past and sailing into the unknown was the hardest
Last week it looked like they would both be dead in a mass grave
Even unbelievers like Misha could recognize their escape for what it was
Image: i.ytimg.com/vi/lidaZTgPTaw/maxresdefault.jpg
Style (an acrostic poem)
So much of her life was trying to be trending
That she almost was the epitome of cutting cultural edge
Yet there were lines she would not cross
Lest she would lose whom she was
Even if she would find out she was someone else
