Two Sentence Tuesday #30

            "Imagine the world at peace," he sighed, mournfully wiping the stains off of his glasses. “We’re not there yet, but maybe someday.”

Spring Forward

Spring Forward

Wait for the turning point; we’ll reach it soon

And the icy fingers will lose their iron grip,

Pulling back from the pain of an invisible searing edge,

Raw and peeling… sunburnt.

The air will be thick with a fragrant blossom-haze

Intoxicating us with whimsically dizzy fantasies

Of infinitely rolling oceans of ivory clouds,

And we’ll lie upon a park bench,

Watching the floating tides break upon piercing slivers…

A million resplendent splinters of molten gold.

They’ll glisten and glitter; they’ll excite us with the warmth

Of tantalizing promise

And the unbearably cruel sting of January will fade

Into memory; a passing recollection of a harsh, gray world,

To scarcely be believed as the sun sets on July.

Insanity

Insanity

Insanity;

Not the incessant repetition

Of activities, doomed

To catastrophe…

But a bedrock hope

For that, which will never,

And should never,

Be.

Don't Do It

Don’t Do It

It’s done; it’s over… he threw the game.

His play, the only one he could think of,

Was made in shivering desperation

And reeked of pungent finality.

In five days’ time, they followed their noses

And found him naked, cold, and bloated.

He ended his plot in this cosmic tale

But so hasty, was he, to close the book,

That I fear he skipped the epilogue.

For those loved, abandoned few who remained

Were human wreckage in his wake.

Left to pick up the pieces; to wonder why…

They picked apart the final years;

They told themselves it was all their fault.

They should have done it differently…

The signs were there; they should have known…

Should have reached out… Should have saved him…

He, who was all but unsavable;

So unready to stand and save himself.

Lacking courage; absent of hope…

Their efforts would have gone to waste.

He made his choice; a choice others face…

Take a breath; think it through;

Consider the world outside of yourself.

Don’t needlessly shorten your own tale

For there are no rewrites.