Loki (an acrostic poem)

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Little joke here or trick there makes every day a bit happier

Okay, maybe it only makes it happier for me

Knowing that you fell for my ruse and now have to do the walk of shame

It almost brings a tear to my eye… because I’m laughing so hard

Wheat (an acrostic poem)

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While being gluten free was not the lifestyle she wanted

Her choices were that or get sick as her body destroyed itself

Eventually she would get used to the changes in her diet

And find awesome alternatives to those things she loved to eat

The smell of fresh baked bread would always bring a tear to her eye

Pout (an acrostic poem)

 

Putting her lip out as far as it could go as the arms cross in front

Observe the slight tremble at the corner of her left eye where a tear threatens

Unless I am mistaken she has perfected the pose

The only question is how long till I capitulate?

 

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RIP (an acrostic poem)

Raising the casket onto his shoulder worried Bart, so he made sure to crouch down

Inside was Uncle Ken, and while Bart loved him for his sense of humor, he was quite a load

Pulling up hard, Bart felt his pants tear in the seat and knew Ken was laughing.  He joined in.

 

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Just One Wish (a 200 word story)

I let the lamp drop to my feet.  The metallic clank it made with the cave floor brought me back to my senses.  “Let me get this straight.  Just one wish?  That’s it?”

“That’s right,” said the genie.  “Just one wish.  I’ll warn you though.  If you wish for more wishes you will be sad.”

“Really?”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Okay, okay.  Just give me a second.”

I began to pace.  I should be a good person and wish that no one went hungry anymore.  Either that or lasting world peace, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.  I am a good person, honest, but right then I could ask for anything.  There was a part of me that wanted to be selfish.  I could be the wealthiest person in the world.  I could be irresistible to anyone whom I desired.

I could bring back my parents and have one last dinner with them around the kitchen table.  Now that brought a tear to my eye.  But would that be a good wish?  And yet I could…

“Okay genie.  I wish for…”

 

Don’t you wish you knew what I wished for?  Go find your own genie!

 

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Moist (an acrostic poem)

Mile after mile spins by as I pump the pedals

Out of every pore pours the tears of exercise

I am covered in a river of exertion

Shifting the color of my shirt three shades darker with saturation

That’s without counting the humidity

 

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