Shift (an acrostic poem)

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So it was time to work, but he didn’t want to

How was he supposed to do this for the rest of his active life

If he waited until he could retire, he would be too old to do anything fun

F his boss and all the talk about work-life balance

The fact that he punched the timeclock and not his supervisor was a miracle

Silver (an acrostic poem)

 

She scowled at her reflection 

It was all angles, scars, and knots of muscle

Leaving her bereft of the soft curves she knew he desired 

Vapor poured into the window behind her 

Envisioning what was about to happen, she punched her image, shattering it 

Reaching for a shard, she let it fly, impaling the coalescing vampire.  “How about that curve?” she muttered. 

 

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