A/N: Another haiku, another (sort of) literary reference. Who’ll tell me which story this is from?
A boy with a dream.
Friends sharing laughter and tears.
He’ll be pirate king.
Cursing softly as the doorbell rang, Christopher sent a quick prayer upwards that it wasn’t yet another charity organisation. Ever since he’d won those fifty millions, so much had changed. One of the changes that he could have been without was people asking for money.
It wasn’t like he was against the idea of giving back. He’d actually started his own charity organisation since he’d won, but by now he was just sick and tired of people telling him that he was a bad person if he didn’t also give to their organisation. Like he was some sort of horrible human being just because he didn’t give to everyone who asked. Like distant relatives and old classmates.
Continue reading Changes
“You’re wrong,” my angel told me,
“And I need for you to change.
You need to be less of all you are,
Less fascinated with everything strange.
Continue reading An Angel’s Frown
A/N: My first haiku! Bonus points for anyone who can tell me which literary work it’s from.
Curtains used as dress.
Rooster’s feather in her hair.
The gloves told the truth.
A/N: Okay, so I read all these poems online about being heart-broken, and I figured it would be funny to write a poem about the exact opposite of that.
I got no talent to be heart-broken,
And I’m told that that is wrong.
But crying my heart out over some guy,
– It simply isn’t done.
I wonder if something is wrong with me,
Since it’s so easy to just let go.
While others hold on with all they have,
Still caught in the afterglow.
But once I see that something is bad,
It’s quite easy to simply escape.
One realisation is all I need,
And I am gone, going away.
For this heart isn’t made for breaking,
And these eyes aren’t meant to cry.
That is why no tears are flowing.
As I here tell you – “Goodbye.”
“I want to make a complaint!”
The receptionist turned towards the man with an hidden sigh. She’d known that this guest would be trouble from the moment she’d laid eyes on him, and it appeared that she hadn’t been wrong. What a shame.
“I’m sorry to hear that, sir,” she said. “Is something the matter with the room?”
She waited for a continuation, but none seemed forthcoming.
“May I ask what?”
Continue reading Complaints
He’s at home in his bed,
His wife at his side.
But he finds himself in battle,
As he opens his eyes.
The enemy is upon them,
His friends are all dying.
So he fights with all he has,
While his insides are crying.
There! Don’t you see?!
An enemy to his side!
So he raises his gun,
And he shoots the damn guy!
A scream pulls him back,
And he sees what he’s done.
He’s back in his kitchen,
Where he just shot his own son.
A/N: If interested then the following link is to a website where you can make a donation to help soldiers dealing with PTSD: