Dark Side (an acrostic poem)

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Deep brooding was always expected of him

And the propensity to wear many different colors, as long as they were black

Really that was a lie.  Only one black would do, absolute pitch black

Keeping things sleek, simple, and sophisticated

See, your typical evil-doer was supposed to be better at life than the hero

It made for a more compelling story when the hero used their scrappiness to win the day

Didn’t feel right, though, to have all the gifts just to get one-upped by a barely house-trained puppy

Evil must have its flaw, and he knew his intimately.  That’s why he had placed a small fortune bet on the “hero”.

Roots (an acrostic poem)

Reaching down, she scooped up a handful of the deep dark soil
Old smells of peat and fertilizer mingled with aromas of earth and moisture
Overhead, the sun poured light down, saturating the field
The seeds there were snuggling underneath their cozy brown blanket
So many people wondered why she chose to be a farmer, but this was where she had her…

Art (an acrostic poem)

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Always creating for the sake of creation.

Reality bends to accommodate the totality of new imagination generated.

That might be the source of all the dark energy!

Bluff (an acrostic poem)

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Bashful with a dash of humility was his favorite drink
Leaving him sated every time he partook of that sweet nectar
Under the moonless sky, he would go out for a pint or two
Fortune smiled when he found a sweet young insecure thing looking for tall, pale, and handsome
Finding a dark spot to sip her vitality, he never saw the wooden stake till it was too late

Pair (an acrostic poem)

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Putting two together was the desired goal of most people

And in some things, she would agree with them. 

It didn’t apply to her socks. People always asked if her dryer ate one of them

Reality was she only bought singles since she usually got dressed in the dark.

Tempt (an acrostic poem)

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There was the dark chocolate truffle right there

Egging him on to consume and enjoy the ephemeral experience

Mustering his willpower, he pushed the candy away

Putting him in touch with its shiny ebony brown exterior, but he got up and walked off

The fact that he licked his fingers as he left was totally not a cave

Wisp (an acrostic poem)

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Winding through the dark recesses of my mind

I follow the glimmer of an idea as it floats just out of reach

So I shouldn’t have been surprised when I fell into a mental swamp

Pushing me under the murky surface to drown in the fetid cerebral sludge

Ray (an acrostic poem)

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Ribbons of light cascade down between the dark clouds

As the teardrop remnants of rain drip from outstretched leaves

Yielding a gleaming, magical moment

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.

Impossible (an acrostic poem)

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It might look like things are at their darkest.

Makes picking up your burdens and trying again seems pointless.

Perhaps even preposterous.

Oh, don’t lose faith in yourself.

So many things are doable once you put your mind to it.

Strive to find little successes and chain them in a row.

It matters seeing those breadcrumbs of progress.

Believe that you can climb out of the dark depths.

Lift yourself one bit at a time.

Eventually you will feel the sun of triumph on your face.