Taste (an acrostic poem)

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Those stripes will be yummy with a dash of polka dots

Adding the mismatched pink and green fluorescent socks to further spice it up

So put together a feast for your soul and embrace who you are

There might be people who want to throw up a bit when they see you walk down the street but…

Everyone has a different fashion palate when it comes to style.

Fragile (an acrostic poem)

Flexible was never how Cybil would describe herself

Really she was almost as stiff as a steel beam

And yet she was nowhere as tough

Given she could simply walk down the street and pull any number of muscles

It was frustrating to want to do so much, but she just couldn’t

Looking at her you would never know

Else you might cut her some slack

 

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Pride (an acrostic poem)

Prowling along the street with his boys

Richard felt like they were lions on the hunt

It made him swell with thoughts of importance

Defiant of the rules of the urban jungle

Earning him his own big game hunters

 

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Haste (an acrostic poem)

He flew down the street way over the speed limit

And drove through the red light accompanied by a chorus of car horns

Soon he had police cars chasing him from behind

That made him laugh with glee.  He loved the attention

Everyone gets their fifteen minutes of fame, but he was shooting for thirty

 

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Master of the Universe (a 100 word story)

John was the master of his universe.  He controlled his schedule.  He would sometimes miss meetings just to show the others there who was really important.

He came and went as he pleased, and everyone had to react to his timeline, or he would ignore them out of existence.  Most people couldn’t handle being treated like that, but John didn’t care.  It was all about him damn it.

At least that’s what he told himself as he downed the rest of the bottle.  As he staggered down the street, he wondered how much he could hock his AA pin for.

 

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Monster’s Eyes (a 100 word story)

I stare into the monster’s eyes and wonder how it has come to this.  I try to be a good person most of the time.  I help old ladies across the street sometimes.  I give to charity at the checkout of the grocery store.  These things are supposed to help with karma, at least that’s what I believed.

Sure I had my bad times.  We all have those.  Still, I thought I was a net positive in the karma bank, but here I was, face to face with the monster, knowing there was no escape.

My fist smashed the mirror.

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