Five random short-stories and poems

Submitted by Tayme on Mon, 06/21/2010 - 19:21

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One: Just out of reach.

For the affect I search, search wide search deep

So incomplete.

Perfect flaws, scars seep,

Just out of reach.

Black birds fly soar high,

Just out of reach.

 

For the feel I search, search wide search deep

So incomplete.

Anxiety stalls, stops quick,

Bravery just out of reach.

The life in need of saving

Just out of reach.

 

For the words I search, search wide search deep

So incomplete.

Descriptions false, blending draws back,

Perfect words just out of reach.

Black birds fly soar high,

Just out of reach.

 

            Two: Sunrise.

Bell toll seventh time, blackened skies begin to sigh

For the first time.

Seven times.

Light blooming hazel, first chance she has

Reaping the night of his darkness.

Golden rays dance upright

And bleach the sky with bright.

Taking the time to herself, daylight has come at last.

 

 

            Three: toys.

Absolute nonsense, dancing toys, clatters of noise.

It’s play time little girl and boys.

Puppets run wild with joy,

If only the children were here.

Loud and happy, dancing and dancing.

Leap, bound, stringles freedom,

Leap round… and back into place.

 

 

            Four: Mindless.

He waits in dead silence. The sun setting outside the nearly empty house. It was black inside, but one window shed the scarlet light on his sitting figure. He rocked back and forth like a child frightened by the approaching night. His wide blue eyes fixed on the setting sun that looked as if all the light in the world had been slain and now fell into the bloodstained horizon… and vanished into black. The darkness took over the air like a curtain closing a stage. They would come for him soon, to tear him to shreds, to rip his heart out, to laugh at his pain. They never came, they never do.

 

 

            Five: The Child.

I sat in the prickly grass on a hill. The air was clear and perfect, how would I describe it? Like millions of butterflies brushing passed my skin, like birds soaring through my lungs, like I was flying with the sky. Six more weeks and I will be up there with him, with the sky, with the wind, with all those angels and of course with him.

Author's age when written
-39
Genre

Comments

Lovely, of course :-D

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond

I-FEEL-SPECIAL!!!!!!!!! See people; she cares about me and comments on my stories!!!!! It's ok; I'm sure you care too but if you want me to know............. COMMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! =O ( lol )

Also, as Tayme's therapist, it is a highly intelligent idea to comment on her stories!!!!

Oh, and just kidding about the therapist thing.

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond