A boring schedule A boring week A boring life overall

A boring way To go about the day A sudden change-up calls

Something different Something fresh Something out of the blue

I need something completely unknown I need something new

I’ll try to paint, or sing and dance or maybe I will skate

Just maybe I could find a thing I will not come to hate

At first I’ll try And fail at first And then I’ll fail some more

Some slight improvement Another fail This hobby’s such a bore

Why did I try To learn this thing When all I do is fail?

I must remember The single point The moral of this tale

If you give up And drop this thing You’ll go back to your day

A one you hate A one you loathe A one that’s not okay

It’s boring, right? You said yourself So you tried this instead

So keep on trying And keep on pushing And get this through your head

Nothing changes overnight A genius wasn’t born

You have to work To learn the thing And then, you’ll break the norm

When everyone passed the finish line While you’re still at the start

Just one day If you keep going You’ll know this all by heart

“Hellooooo”, a stranger on the street bellowed in a deep low growl as they tried to get my attention, while waving their hand in my face and blocking my view. This happens to me frequently, and I usually get away from this by acting deaf or just giving up and running away. A crowd of pigeons fly past me at a snail’s pace while the cars in the street just never seem to move, these things used to amuse me in years past but now they’re nothing more than reminders of the curse I was given.

I’m always one step ahead of everyone, but never in a good way. I move much quicker than the rest of the world, but it never benefits me. I can never talk to anyone, because they’ll never keep up with me, and I can’t wait around for them to talk. Their deep voices mix with the sounds of everything around me and combine into a droning amalgamation that I cannot bear. What used to be the sounds of traffic, a speaker playing music and a crowd socializing turned into horrifying groans from the depths of hell.

I turned to crime fighting when I got this “power” thinking I have been chosen for something greater. My hopes and dreams for a successful career were shattered due to lack of communication, so I began to have thoughts of becoming a hero to fill the isolating void of my dreadful life. Unsurprisingly, I became beloved by the city and turned into their savior.

Stopping bullets, saving pedestrians from oncoming vehicles and stopping robberies turned into all I ever did, and just like every other aspect of my life, became just as tedious. I don’t care if I have to fight a group of ten to return a lady’s purse, I know all the moves to neutralize them and repeating this process bores me to no end. I don’t care how happy they all look when I save them, it’s just another year long day in the life, and nothing ever fazes me.

I could go for days complaining about my torturous existence, yet I continue to save lives, because the thought of someone’s blood on my hands with the continued aspects that haunt me could cause me to finally end this once and for all. I could never bring myself to suicide either, because if I did, there would be so many lives lost that I could have saved.

I was supposed to like being a superhero, but now all I want is a friend. Just one person who I can talk to, so this insanity could be a little less painful. When your only friend is yourself, it’s like drowning while knowing no one can save you.

“Hey!”, I said as I tilted my head upwards at the man looking down at me. After bringing myself to his attention I waited for a response, but surprisingly nothing was said immediately. At first I thought “I’ll give him some time, maybe he’s currently lost in his own thoughts”, but as I continued to attempt to talk to him, he payed no mind to my constant efforts.

There were so many things I wanted to ask him, his situation was extremely confusing to me. Why would he be hanging off the side of this building, is he suicidal? From the looks of it, he’s been observing the street below for quite a bit, is he spying on someone or something?

After questioning him in my head for about a minute I finally built up the nerve to get his attention in some other way. In the corner of my eye I spotted a half crushed soda can, which I could throw near him to finally get him to respond. In one swift move I flung the can with all my might to the window right below where he sat. A slight flinch is all I got from him as he continued to ignore me, even though he clearly knows I’m here.

At this point I grew angry at him, I narrowed down my theories to three possibilities. He was either deaf, some sort of addict or he’s getting exactly what he wants from me, a reaction. Just then, a small but sudden buildup of chatter grew from behind me. I turned around and I saw a group of people, some with cameras and others with notepads. I could only make out a few of their phrases and sentences because they were all talking over each other.

Some people were gushing over the man’s “endless amount of talent” and how he “is changing how they view the world”. I found this harsh cacophony of “oohs and aahs” even more annoying than it should be, coming from my already existing aggression towards the hanger above. After I took notice to the group, I heard one of them say “Wow, the other man is looking at us, it really makes me feel like I’m apart of this story”.

His words confused me even more and pushed me further into my horrible mood. Just when I least expected, a women ran up next to me from around a corner and also looked up at the man. “Wait!”, she exclaimed in a horrified tone, “You don’t have to do this, you have so much to li-“.

She turned over to me and shockingly whispered “Wait a second, who are you, aren’t you supposed to be back there?”, as she pointed to the crowd of people. Finally, the man above spoke up as well “I suggest you leave right now because you are ruining all of this!”

“Oh, I’m ruining this?!” I remarked in a snarky tone, “Well you’re the one who wouldn’t answer me for the past ten minutes!” After I yelled, someone from the crowd uttered “There’s some fourth wall breaking in this piece, truly groundbreaking material if you ask me”. The sound of the crowd’s claps finally caused my brain to put two and two together.

I looked back at the man hanging from the building and the dramatically scared women below and I finally realized their motives, they were performance artists and I just ruined their installation. All I could think as I finally walked away was how I wasted so much time out of my day. I sighed even louder when the pretentious art critics started applauding me because they thought I was a performer too.

“God damnit”.

Writing a poem with the first being last

Last being first, the potential is vast

Vast in possibilities, rhyming and format

Format the poem to what the prompt hints at

At a certain point while writing this prompt

Prompt seems difficult, creativity is stomped

Stomping at the ground while angrily thinking

Thinking of rhymes, the flow starts sinking

Sinking through my mind to find any rhymes

Rhymes to be used in such a dire time

Time’s running out, I need to sleep

Sleep schedule’s ruined, I just want to weep

Weep for my wasted time spent rhyming

Rhyming for a hard goal, though I keep climbing

Climbing to reach the end of this pain

Pain that I’ll take, and experience I’ll gain

Gain a sense of pride, when I reach the top

Top’s getting higher so I might as well stop.

When I became friends with this tight knit group of outsiders I knew why they accepted me, because I was different like the rest of them. Some of them had a secret talent that no others could appreciate, and some just had a personality that the mainstream just couldn’t handle. As for me, I knew I was taken in for my appearance, but they’re not fully aware of my true self. My days as a street mime were unsuccessful, as the passers-by all gawked and complained at my performance. I thought I was doing an excellent job, but the public said otherwise.

Despite all the negative reactions, I persevered until one day they showed up. A group of people who didn’t throw anything or shout obscenities, but rather admired the work I put into my act. They clapped and threw a dollar or two, and suddenly I felt like this day could be different from all the rest.

I wanted to thank them for their appreciation, but I remembered that a great mime never speaks. Instead I tried my best to physically show my gratitude and they understood just fine. They took a liking to me due to “how different I looked and acted from the rest of the town”. I was a bit puzzled at their statement as a thought “Have they ever saw a mime before?”

As I “conversed” with them more to the best of my ability I finally understood why they wanted me to join their group of misfits. Since then we’ve arranged gatherings to catch up with each other and escape the dread of everyday life, each meetup more extravagant than the last. We’ve went from attempting to fish in an indoor waterpark to having a loud dance party in a quiet library. We done these outlandish activities to match our equally outlandish group. All to show the world that we would never change to conform to their standards.

That leads me to today, as I enter our monthly meeting with a lump in my throat. A formal tea party by the poolside sounds quite simple, but of course our meeting has to be special, so we set it up in the pool itself, much to the chagrin of the pool club’s attendees that day.

As the rest of the gang caught me up to speed on their latest affairs, I was nervous to my core, due to their constant misunderstanding of my condition.

Once, in an attempt to be honest with my friends, I explained through sign language that I was born a mute and that becoming a mime was my way of making lemonade out of the lemons that life gave me. They completely disregarded my sadness, passing it off as another “play” that I put on for their entertainment. At one point I had even written a full, clear as day message conveying my feelings and of course, they saw it as another joke, thinking my role was a tragic character.

In my frustration, I finally moved to plan c, and that was to attend a meeting in normal clothing, with no makeup, to prove I meant business. In result, I got shooed out of the get together due to no one recognizing who I was, claiming that I was “one of those simpletons on the street”.

So here I sit, always wondering if they’ll ever get the big idea, or if I’ll just give up and return to a lonely life of harsh criticism. To soften the blow of my seemingly endless depression, I take a deep breath and resume my happy façade. Because after all, I am known for being the performer of the group, why not do what I do best.

The day started as it usually does, with me waking up at the crack of dawn with my wife. We take turns in the bathroom, have some coffee and talk about whatever is happening recently. She heads off to work, I drive our son to school and I then go to work as well. We do it every morning except today was a bit different. That day I called in sick, I’ve been around a few people and it’s safe to say I might have a cold.

Nevertheless, I forced myself out of bed to keep my wife company in the morning. As we were talking, she seemed a bit more upbeat and happier today. At first it weirded me out, but then I though for a second that this change could make this morning more interesting. I asked her about the mood and she returned with a resounding “nothing special”. “Really?” I responded, “Because I feel like your demeanor definitely has a reason, it’s not every day you’re like this, y’know?” She let out a sigh with her face still grinning from ear to ear for “no reason whatsoever”.

She turned to me and just said “can’t I just be happy for the life I have, that me, my husband and child are all thriving and we aren’t facing any hardships at the moment?” My eyes widened with confusion and about a second later lowered after thinking for a bit. “I never thought of that, that is a pretty good reason”, I calmly said to her before she was out the door. Moments after I was back in my bed, no duties to fulfill, even outside of work since I got a text saying “I’ll do everything, don’t worry about it and get some rest”. That left me with some time to ponder what she said in the morning, because I was clearly not over what she said. I thought about how she was right, and how I should be more thankful for the life I’m living. I cracked a small smile and rolled over to nap.

Two hours later I woke up to a feeling which violently threw me off of my calming mood. I felt a tingling in my lips. My first thought was that it was a side effect of the cold, but then I remembered my secret sense. I went into full panic mode realizing what had happened.

Ever since I could remember, I had a strange ability to detect whenever the person I loved was kissing someone else, I always felt it in my lips. This happened on multiple occasions, but very rarely. When I was younger it only happened when a high school crush or someone similar was kissing, whenever it happened I was in a horrible mood for the rest of the day. I have never told anybody about my ability, not because I want to keep it a secret, but because no one would believe me and would think that I was faking it.

But here I was, feeling this strange sensation that I last felt over half a decade ago, with thoughts racing through my mind. I kept on telling myself that I was overthinking and I was crazy to even think that my wife, who is solely dedicated to me and would bend over backwards time and time again to assure that we would have the best life for the both of us, is all of a sudden cheating on me with some guy at work. I first thought about how she was lying to me about her happiness this morning, no doubt it had to do with this mystery man. My theories got even crazier as the hours went on, “What if she skipped work and is seeing someone I haven’t even seen before in my life?”

As I counted down the hours to confront my wife about all of this, I started to point fingers at random suspects in my mind. I started listing off every co-worker, friend, acquaintance and even family member from my side that she interacted with at least ONCE. All the while hyperventilating and constantly reassuring myself that this was all in my head, that this only happened once in six years and it might even just be a misunderstanding between me and my senses. I kept pacing and thinking and about right now is where it stops. Only time will tell what happens next, so pray for me, okay?

A dark, gray cloud overtakes The attention of everyone, it wakes

The sound of thunder, a strike of fear An indication of what is near

Loud winds begin to form The temperature is far from warm

All these signs just seem to warn It’s more than just a thunderstorm

The winds grow louder, the rain drops hard The locals take shelter and begin to stand guard

The water builds, and fills the streets It seems like it will never cease

The climate has reached a biting numb The buildings brace for what’s to come

A window smashes, a wall is torn An age of destruction is newly born

Homes and shops soon start to flood As the bright green grass turns to mud

Businesses’ profits sink below As does their buildings, they overflow

A full on attack on neighborhoods Costing hundreds or thousands, in damaged goods

All of a sudden, the large barrage waned A sense of hope, the community gained

The high levels of water began to drain As well as the clouds, the thunder and rain

All that was left was a broken town Full of broken people, still glad they didn’t drown

Although some were not as skilled They came together and planned to rebuild

No other disaster could be topped Until finally, the chill stopped