Sprint (an acrostic poem)

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Scurrying thoughts running crazy inside his head

Put him on his mental treadmill, trying to exercise them away

Reaching an exhaustion level that would allow him to fall unconscious

It sometimes worked, but tonight the ideas and thoughts were too fast

Not that he gave up dashing after them, but waking hours passed slowly

That’s what made the alarm the next morning such a rude starting pistol for the new day

Frost (an acrostic poem)

Forging on down the path less traveled

Rarely has such a line struck home as tonight

Outside the sleet and freezing rain coats everything

So driving right now is crazy difficult

That the plow is on the more traveled path makes me regret my decision

 

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Top (an acrostic poem)

The room spun as he tried to stand up

Of all the nights, tonight was the night he had to drink the good stuff

Perhaps he should have allowed himself to bottom out instead

 

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Daft (an acrostic poem)

Doomed to repeat the same mistake

Anton kept pushing his boulder up his hill

Fountain pen on paper, he began the poem once again

Though he might be insane, tonight he might have a new outcome

 

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