Tag: story

Stories

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Some stories are short –

some end right where

they begin. There are

plot twists that appear

out of nowhere. Characters

get written off.

Each story is a book.

Each word read is forever

imprinted inside of our head.

The characters we meet

changed the course of our story.

From start to finish, as time

goes forth, life blazes a trail

and takes shape. Sometimes,

manuscripts rip once

they’re flipped. Regardless,

we travel

into the darkness

to find the sun.

We won’t stop until

the story is done.

We tell other people’s stories.

They show us a life

seen through different eyes. They

change us – to no surprise.

Our stories will live on

long after we are gone.

Our stories are meant to be told

by the old to the young.

The young will grow up

and tell stories of their own.

We grip the pen tight and keep

our story alive. We keep writing

until the ink runs dry.

Tragedies and Triumphs

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Oh, how life can take it’s wrath

out on us. The cards being dealt

do us no good. The pressure felt

makes it hard to breathe. At times,

we are held captive to our thoughts

and think we won’t be released.

Ups and downs. Smiles and frowns.

On the other side of tragedy

is triumph. Waves of defeat wash

over us, but the waves must break.

The storm will pass. We will live on.

Tragedy strikes much to our dislike.

Yet, we defeat the demons out of sight.

Our tragedies are part of our story,

but every triumph will lead us to glory.

Pulling Strings

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I know people who pull strings.

There has to be someone controlling

things. There are puppets and puppet

masters. There are shadows and shadow

casters. We can pull strings. We can

be the writer of our story or we can

be a character in someone else’s.

We can make things happen. We can

take action or we can sit and wait

until circumstance dictates our fate.

We can join the race or we can watch

from the sidelines. We can push through

or let others choose. We can pull strings.

We can control our own puppet. Don’t

let someone else gain control of your soul.

Hop in the driver’s seat and press the gas.

Go fast and know, we all eventually crash.

Start from Scratch

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Start from scratch. Draw on that

blank paper. Save perfect for later.

Whether you write, paint, or draw,

give it your all. A blank canvas deserves

to be painted. Look inside the depths

of your mind and see the life you wish

to create. Don’t just wait; it’s time

to paint. Your actions are the brush

stroking back and forth. Give it a go

for what it’s worth. Each day is a new

canvas, so don’t dwell on yesterday’s

painting. Don’t let old colors bleed into

today’s work. Forget what was done,

and feel the warmth of a new sun.

Your story has just begun. Move on:

yesterday is gone and tomorrow is

arriving. Forget about the timing.

Start from scratch here and now.

Clean your paintbrush; start anew.

It’s time to paint those gray skies blue.

if these hands could talk

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If these hands could talk, they wouldn’t stop.
They would tell you stories of the past.
These hands would teach you lessons
of hard work and perseverance. These hands
would just because they could. All the scars,
callasses, bruises, and creases show others
that life is a long, winding road that eventually
ends. I can’t pretend that it has been easy.
But, if it were easy, what would it teach me?
These hands would tell you that it will be
okay. You will move on and see a new day.
If these hands could talk, you would understand
that I have gone to war, but came out alive.
Yes, these hands would tell you that I survived.
In this life, these hands have been wet, burned,
bloodied, hurt, and disregarded. But these hands
would tell you that we are just getting started.
If these hands could talk, they would scream:
“Hold me as I long for touch and acceptance”.
They would talk just to talk just like feet walk.