Work (an acrostic poem)

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Whitlling away at his soul to earn sustenance

Only he never felt sustained

Reaching lower and lower depths of despair

Knowing eventually he will fall out the bottom and drop into nothingness

Paper (an acrostic poem)

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Pushing a pile of it across her desk back in 2019

All she wanted was to bury her head and ignore the rest of it

Perhaps somehow find a wormhole in reality and fall in

Emerging in her house, free from any of those damn dead trees

Reality hit her during the pandemic.  Electrons were even worse than …

Ground (an acrostic poem)

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Gripping the dirt like he was afraid to fall into the sky

Really it was his muscles clenching all at once

Outside the thunder rumbled, marking sonically where he had been zapped

Under those angry clouds, the smell of ozone persisted

Not that the people with the ski masks on noticed.  They were too busy trying to flee, but they

Didn’t have time because Thor stood back up and smiled.  “Now it’s my turn.”

Chain (an acrostic Poem)

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Connecting the dots ways always the easy part

Hard part was then making the dominoes fall in order

As so many factors had to be juggled for the Rube Goldberg plan to work

It was almost something straight from a summer blockbuster

Not that he had to worry about.  The first link broke leaving him dreaming of what might have been

Balance (an acrostic poem)

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Born to teeter-totter through life

Always trying to find equilibrium

Longing to stay in the center

And yet we usually over compensate

Now we smash side to side farther and farther as we get older

Considering it a right of passage imparting some magical wisdom and yet

Eventually we all fall down

Plan (an acrostic poem)

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Putting together ideas that function in lock step

Letting the dominos fall till their inevitable conclusion is so satisfying

And yet, without question, something will not go as you projected

Now how you engineer what comes after is a true test of your design

Sprint (an acrostic poem)

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Scurrying thoughts running crazy inside his head

Put him on his mental treadmill, trying to exercise them away

Reaching an exhaustion level that would allow him to fall unconscious

It sometimes worked, but tonight the ideas and thoughts were too fast

Not that he gave up dashing after them, but waking hours passed slowly

That’s what made the alarm the next morning such a rude starting pistol for the new day

Spiral (an acrostic poem)

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Spinning around and around in tighter and tighter circles

Putting my equilibrium into the fetal position

I try to stop, but the world is now spinning up as I slow down

Reaching for the floor, I miss

And fall into some space that I didn’t know existed

Living now the pinwheel life

Fall (an acrostic poem)

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Finding the remains of summer scattered upon the ground

As I walk along the shrinking daylight

Leaving the time of green behind

Looking toward the time of stark contrasts of dark and white