Sprint (an acrostic poem)

Image: cdn.trendhunterstatic.com/thumbs/the-js-wings-20.jpeg

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

Progress (an acrostic poem)

Image: i.pinimg.com/236x/7d/6b/b7/7d6bb7497de54b7a667d4699370cf0bc–beach-art-at-the-beach.jpg

Proof that you are moving forward can be hard to find

Realize that sometimes just not going backwards as fast is something

Or stay still as everyone around you marches somewhere you don’t want to go

Grieve when you need to grieve, that allow you to move forward

Rest when you are tired.  That allows you to move forward

Every step might feel like you are wading through a riptide

So much of life can be like that

Still, one step, then another, always trying.  That is how it works.  Give yourself credit for…

Laugh (an acrostic poem)

 

Letting rip the giggles

As you roll around on the bed

Until your sides hurt, but you continue the tickle war

Gripping these times with your kid while you can

How fast these times will end.

 

Image: secureservercdn.net/45.40.145.151/ixx.88d.myftpupload.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/09/Family-tickle-on-the-couch.jpg

Track (an acrostic poem)

 

The rat race isn’t getting any easier

Running as fast as you can in circles

And all you can hope for is some crappy medal

Consider what would happen if you tried a different sport?

Kick off those tired sneakers and grab a javelin?

 

Image: ymcamontgomery.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/iStock_000003851477_Large-cropped-1024×432.jpg

Fast (an acrostic poem)

Food would mean nothing to Timmy for the next twenty-four hours

As he fortified his will to resist undoing the thing that he sought

So he hoped that the ordeal would fly by quickly

That was when he debauched a whole package of Oreos

 

Image: previews.123rf.com/images/seralexvi/seralexvi1509/seralexvi150900110/45360752-food-clock-with-vegetables-and-fruits-healthy-food-concept.jpg

Salty (an acrostic poem)

Spewing swearwords at his partner

A lively discussion deteriorated into a verbal brawl

Leaving their relationship listless on the brackish waters of their tears

To think how fast something so spicy had lost all flavor

Yet it now left a sour taste in his mouth

 

Image: image1.masterfile.com/getImage/NjExOC0wNzQ0MDUzNGVuLjAwMDAwMDAw=AEoXQ7/6118-07440534en_Masterfile.jpg

One Fewer For The Enemy (a 200 word story)

The killing field surrounded her as if she was in the eye of the storm.  Bodies strewn all over, stabbed, shot, burnt.  Not another living soul was in sight.   Fallen comrades in arms were strewn among the remains of their enemies.  It was a miracle that she was alive considering how much of her own blood stained the ground beneath her feet.

Her unit had been sent out to stop the approaching horde.  Their village had been decimated by the plague, so they could only send out farmers and those too old to serve anymore.  She was amazed they had stopped the monsters from taking away what was left.

She was so tired, but there was still there was more to do.  She lit her torch and began to burn those bodies closest to her.  The stench of sizzling flesh stung her lungs and eyes, but she didn’t pause as she raced to set more of the fallen ablaze.

The battle had been fast, but not fast enough.   She tried to cry, but the tears were too tired to come.  As the moon rose, so did the fallen.  She could only set herself on fire.  One fewer for the enemy.

 

Image: i.pinimg.com/originals/d2/c0/61/d2c06151201d367589923c0bc0d96c22.jpg