Trash (an acrostic poem)

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The words she first typed were complete garbage

Reaching deeper, she tried again, trying to have them make artistic sense

As she typed, though, she knew these were still rubbish

She decided to keep going, but that feeling never seemed to leave her subconscious

How even after all the self-doubt she was a bestselling author amazed her every day

Pride (an acrostic poem)

 

Popping his shirt in victory

Regaling his opponent with trash talk

It would make most people sick to their stomach

Doing it to his twelve-year-old son, well that was over the top

Extreme hubris was his specialty, and this was his teaching moment

 

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Trash (an acrostic poem)

The rubbish he was writing piled up around him

Rambling ideas clashing with the other balderdash

Any semblance to story was pure happenstance

So when he was just about to throw the refuse away

He stumbled onto what he was going to write.

 

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Purge (an acrostic poem)

Putting half her life in the trash never felt good

Until she did it though, there would be no freedom

Reaching for the next stack of poems

Going through each she remembered how hard they had been to write

Even as she let each slip through her fingers into the recycling

 

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Blessed (an acrostic poem)

Being poor could be a burden at times, okay most of the time

Lenny tried to not let it bother him though

Even as he poked through the trash to find redeemable bottles

Sifting through the rubbish Lenny found a lottery ticket

Scratching it off, Lenny had won ten thousand dollars

Ever since that day Lenny mailed out two Hallmark cards with a crisp $20 in each

Doing random acts of kindness to show people that they matter

 

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Trash (an acrostic poem)

Temptation knocked at Wayne’s door

Rachel had called wanting a lift to a party

All Wayne could think about was would his car make it

Still you didn’t leave a woman like Rachel wanting

Hopefully this night wouldn’t be a waste

Trash (an acrostic poem)

Templeton wondered how his frat brothers would perceive him now

Rolling around inside a dumpster looking for his wallet

As if it couldn’t get worse, he could hear the police sirens getting closer

Still if he didn’t find his wallet it wouldn’t matter if he got away

He might as well get used to living in a metal box