Prose
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Not my poem
I crossed that fine line between love and hate Only to find there was nothing new. No one changed for me, either way. So I walked on until I crossed the fine line between joy and sorrow, And again discovered nothing new. They still refused to change. So I struggled on until I crossed that ever fine line between life and death, And found my soul fresh and new. And realized, to late, that change only comes from within. ~Gail K. Beaudry
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Bad Poetry Day
If you’ve been following along, on August 12, 2016 I broke my leg skating. Yeah, mostly all better 5 years later, but today I came across this. It was an attempt at something almost one year before that, at the same location my leg went boom. I find it funny that on that day, I was not skating. Should have kept it that way. Oh, you! bad meter and rhyme Stuck in my head like gum saved on bedpost Old. Dry. Flavorless. Till morning I heed the call And savor its flavor Till something else comes along #badpoetryday #notskating
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The Boy In All Of Us
This was not an intentional photo, and I had even forgotten about it. It was taken by accident and just uploaded like 99% of all my horrible pics. Until I looked back. The original had my thumb in the way. I did not want to upload it as it was snapped, but you know me… I luvz me a good edit. Perhaps this is good, perhaps not. The boy I once was Adults gather, and drink and laugh With dad doing man things I sit, wanting to grow old The man I am now I sit, wanting to be young
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Monday
Sitting without feelBusy work to pass the timeThe day moves, but I do not….
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Youth
I found this on my phone, written January 2014. Some poetry, good, bad, or whatever. I wanna grow upThe world awaitsI’m just a childBut I wanna grow up They can driveAnd vote and do adult thingsI wanna grow upI’m only a kidBut I wanna grow up I can’t waitI wanna grow upBut I’m still so youngI can’t give it up My world is smallBut I wanna grow upI can’t be so littleWhen I wanna grow up Scared of tomorrowIs not my fearStaying so youngCry many a tearI wanna grow up So troubled yet freeWhen I walk out that doorI wanna grow upI just wanna
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A rose is a rose
Try not to worryThey do take care of themselvesKnowing when to stop~ Fold here, refold thereJust one more to make it goodBut what do you do?~ A little patienceNever try, just only doThen on to the next
