Realizing there are times when you are broken inside
Everything just rattles around and you feel the stabbing of the sharp pieces
Putting that back together would be difficult if not impossible
Leaving what would be left is an incomplete you
As some of the parts would be lost or the edges rounded to leave gaps
Covered with tape and superglue. Looking in the mirror you don’t recognize your own soul
Embrace a new chance, a new hope, a new you and let the rubble be recycled
Putting a piece of yourself out into the digital world
Organizing a public persona that the private one hides behind
Still, some of the private part leaks through the online words and pictures
That’s the good/bad of social media.
Forcing air to get its behind moving in front of the spinning tines
As the blades cut up the parts that lollygagged behind
Nothing will ever be the same ever again
Bonus poem:
Focused obsessively on the one-way relationship she had with Him
Always finding out of the way moments to try to finally be with Him
Now that restraining order will be a problem, but it won’t stop her love of Him
Silicon dioxide particles stuck to places on his body
All chaffing parts that should never be chaffed
Needing that shower to rinse them away and get relief
Deferring the problem to a clogged drain
Rat race? You want to talk to me about a rat race?
Ordinarily I would tell you to pick up your cheese and go home
Don’t understand why people like you poke your nose into these parts
Everyone should have a chance to escape the maze, sure. but
Not going to stop you from getting caught in the traps strewn about
That snap will be your early finish line. Now that’s a rat race!
Coughing white steam while walking
Oblivious to the icicles forming his beard
Losing feeling in all exposed body parts
Deciding the Caribbean was a place he needed to be
Image: rightweather.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/2014-01-04-map.jpg
The parts taunted Ginger in Mr. Johnson’s voice as she stared at the pile. Somewhere in there was the robot she envisioned, but it was up to her to tease out that idea.
She started picking up motors and wires, controllers and microprocessors. One part after another got attached to the superstructure. Coding commenced, and the motors sprang to life.
After a few hard weeks she was done. What sat in front of her wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. It was better because it was her creation. Stick that in your face Mr. Johnson! Girls can do engineering!
Image: image.shutterstock.com/display_pic_with_logo/1428038/316145966/stock-photo-pile-of-old-computer-cables-and-devices-isolated-on-white-background-316145966.jpg
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
AUTHOR
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
Wise. Witchy. Wonderful.
Story world
Never Short On Words 