"Lily"

Can this Easter Lily withstand the test of time?

Month 1: It has just sprouted, beautiful, radiant, and pure.

Month 2: The weather changes and makes it harder for it to stand.

Month 3: It’s still beautiful but its petals are a bit dull.

Month 4: It begins to fall apart.

Month 5: Nobody checks to see how it’s holding up.

Month 6: All comes down, but the bare core.

Month 7: It begins to hunch over in despair.

Month 8: Its despair deepens. With no adorning petals to make it love alive, it loses hope.

Month 9: It’s gone and leaves only a memory of the space it once took up on Earth.

"The Magnet"

Angelic lips,

Stimulating breaths,

Complaisant finger-tips,

Gleaming smile,

Twinkling eyes,

Sheltering embrace,

Brilliant mind,

Uplifting laugh,

Soothing voice,

Enthralling soul, it's all but my favorite fable..

"Assiduous"

Weeping Willows scream as I sway by.

My rear view is shattered.

The tall weeds tickle my extremities and cause my tendons to twitch.

Just as I’m getting away, I hit the ground.

The sun hides in fear of what’s to come.

The skies scream at me to get up.

Just as I’m about to stand, the clouds start shedding tears at my disobedience.

I get the courage to get up and stagger through the mud puddles trying to make me stay.

I spot a hill and make it to the top.

I look back at what I’ve left behind, turn around, and witness what’s to come.

"Threshold"



I’m confined to a certain space. Why can I only travel left to right?
I have the ability to express myself freely. Why is someone else telling me what to say?
The sensation of communicating with what completes me is what keeps me sane. Why does my other half insist on setting rules and boundaries?
The bold red lines tell me to stay in my place. What if my place is beyond the bold red lines?

I’m guided by a stronger power, that power has control of what I’m communicating to you right now.
But, I’ve also noticed that higher-power is controlled by something other than itself, a subconscious.
So at the end of the day, I guess you humans pause to margins and follow subconscious rules, too.
You’re no better than I, the pencil...