The Finish Line

 

In response to the Daily Post’s “Marathon”

The Marathon in my mind,

engrossed me, oblivious of time passing,

It captured my soul, never letting it escape until,

I crossed the finish line.

The Marathon in my mind,

hoarding my concentration, energy, and life,

overtaking and controlling my senses until,

I cross the finish line.

The Marathon in my mind,

will direct me to places I don’t know,

and will show me the path which I am not sure to take,

I am going to cross the finish line.

Fruit Punch

The pleasant crisp taste of apple juice,

mixed in with the sweet and sour delight of the grapes,

blended with the tart sugariness of the pineapple juice,

combined with bitter lemonade countering the sweetness,

added with water that reduced the sugary flavor of the mix

and last but not least…

there’s calcium lactate gluconate, Niacin acid, hydrochloride, and more acid.

It’s sad I can’t describe their flavor.

 

Barbed Wire Fence

In response to Daily Post’s writing post Fence

The Fence suppressed us,

it kept us from going,

the barbed wire threatened us,

with cuts and gashes so bad,

one could bleed for hours on end.

They thought that we could not go,

but we went places nobody can go,

controlling our bodies, not our minds,

our imagination was limitless and unstoppable,

They kept us from the world,

but in reality we were already part of it.

Prophecy

In response to Daily Post’s writing post Prophecy

The prophecy lives on,

breathing through all of us,

existing in every crack,

invisible, yet there,

like the creeping chill on a frosty day.

The prophecy no one knows about,

yet everyone knows about,

the prophecy that someone decides,

yet we ponder:

Do prophecies exist?

 

That prophecy that lives inside us,

that prediction we wait to come true,

which we feel would change our lives forever,

or maybe just for a second,

yet we ponder:

Do prophecies exist?

 

That prophecy, which we find hard to wrap our brains around,

Does it control our fate?

Or is it just playing a part in our belief,

that the world is understandable?

Just like the unknown prophecy waiting to be discovered,

Do we really know?

Yet we ponder:

Do prophecies exist?