Wednesday

to share my life in rhyme

i ate fried chicken for dinner and then
cried.
there were flowers blooming in my soul
and they
died.
mama asked where i was going and i
lied.
i was a broken hearted teenager who
just wanted to
hide.

i feared fried chicken would make me
fat.
desperate for water my souls flowers
stopped
flat.
afraid of mama finding out i was
that.
i disappeared inside,
dark as a
bat.

fried chicken has become a favorite
food.
there is a bountiful garden
in my soul,
tattooed.
mama now knows my life's
mood.
i will flash in neon lights
my
gratitude.





6 comments:

  1. I hardly ever write in rhyme, either, but it works sometimes, doesn't it? I'm glad that things have changed for you re friend chicken and your mama.

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  2. wonderful! so much depth in your swaying, pulsing rhyme. lovely post!

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  3. ha. i like the rhyme scheme in this...and the story within as well...i turned black once to escape...and came back much the same..

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  4. good stuff here.

    i never write in rhyme, but this made me want to change that.

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  5. love the rhyme, and how you captured the ache of your soul using fried chicken and flowers, friend. you sure can write! love you, e.

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