Wise (an acrostic poem)

person holding gray twist pen and white printer paper on brown wooden table

Words tumbled from his fingers and pooled upon the page

Irrigating the fertile ground allowing new thoughts to take root

Slowly those ideas grow tall and strong, awaiting harvest

Examining his crop, he began harvesting those who’s time had come and pruning the rest

Sweet (an acrostic poem)

 

Saccharine dreams and ideals permeate her world

Winding her up into a sugar coma

Everything becomes a surreal new reality

Enabling dark pits and holes to grow in the enamel of her TV smile

That didn’t matter though, because the nothings told her so

 

Image: dooleydental.com/blog/wp-content/uploads//AdobeStock_13844435.jpeg

Weed (an acrostic poem)

When you burst through the cracks of society

Everyone thinks you need to be pruned back

Everything must go back to the “good old days”

Don’t let them tread on you.  Grow strong and bloom.  Let your beauty shine!

 

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Balls (an acrostic poem)

Bowling down her competition

Abagail paused to catch her breath

Looking for a sign for where next to strike

Laughing at how they mockingly told her to grow a pair

She threw herself into finishing them off

 

Image: publicdomainpictures.net/pictures/20000/nahled/balloons-and-balls.jpg