Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
POEM STARTER
Memory
Write a poem inspired by this subject
Writings
When shadows fall and day departs,
I mourn a love that once did bloom,
A fragile blossom snapped and gone,
Thy vacant chair, a dusty room.
The echoes of thy laughter die,
Like petals scattered on the breeze,
Yet tender memories still I hold,
A treasured sigh on bended knees.
With faith I'll search the hallowed ground,
Where buried love yet holds its sway,
And trust that there, new blooms are f...
Remember
When we used to make mud pies
And potions out of dirt and pond water.
Or when we dug for worms
Even though my dad would get mad
That we dug up his grass.
And we’d go playing in the woods
Looking for salamanders
Or for wild berry bushes.
You remember,
Don’t you?
You have to remember.
We spent so many hours
Days
Weeks
Years together as a kid
We always played together
Together.
...
Shut up
Your too loud
Get out of my head
Stop buzzing
Shut up
I’m not doing this
Not going back
To that awful night
Shut up
That’s my reason
I don’t want an out
This time
Shut up
Please
I’m scared
So very scared
Shut up
Fine
I’ll do it
But there are boundaries
Rules
For our expression
Get out of my head
Get out my head
Head, get out
Get out
Out
Bleeding
Out
Please stop
I’m frightened
Shut u...
A small pitter patter of rain begins. For anyone else, rain might mean dreadful times. Times filled with sorrow and pain.
Or it may mean evidence of springing hope, a rainbow on the other side, a light of green when the gloom finally leaves.
But for me,
it just means Rose.
It had been a hot day, but the grey in the sky warned of a storm.
I was kicked out of the house. Pa got home from wo...
Tears are streaming down my face
Along with water from the rain
I bet up there you feel the same
One heart, two halves
One’s beating, the other is maimed
My half’s barely getting by,
Without your sunshine from the sky
Send some please, or I might die
One heart, two halves
One is thumping, the other has died
Remembering the day I met you
Your eyes a clear and crystal blue
I didn’t know our friend...
My memory isn’t my own. Maybe it used to be but this person in my head is not me. She is happy, she is beautiful, she is pure. Pure hearted, pure minded. I no longer recognise myself nor do I recognise this personality that seems to follow me. I no longer see me. I see someone who tried and failed. I see someone who wishes things were different. I hate who I have become. I hate myself. No, I despi...
I was so small
Once
Once upon a time
Or was I?
I don’t recall the time
Just
Just a feel
How to describe?
I remember it
Well
Well enough
I was full of joy
This treasured memory
Happy
Happiness and joy
And balloons and laugher
I don’t know what it was
When
When was I so young?
I was such a happy child that day
I know it meant the world to me
This
This extraordinary birthday
Just because that t...
My childhood is running out.
I’m almost 18!
Some think that’s a good thing.
I think it’s a bad thing.
18 means your no longer a child.
You learn responsibilities now.
You don’t have time to party.
But before 18.
You could go to the park with friends.
Ride down a steep hill and crash a bike.
Childhood means being reckless and creating fun memories with friends.
As 18 slowly creeps by I think abo...
Memories are the wardens of the prisoners of time
Each awakened day curated by an unforgotten fine
That governs the quality of the here and now
And hinders possibilities of futures that only thoughts can patent
Memories are memoirs of an era in a timeless matrix
Used to organized the emotions of consciousness created
Not the jailers that hold our wounds hostage and unaided...
Tw.
views are so different from another’s eyes
Seeing things uniquely, all with lies
But for me it’s black or white, no greys
Time passes counting the days
Till I’ll be released, there’s no sell by date
Trapped here filled with hate
I’m looking back in retrospective
Trying for some perspective
Just keep failing and hurting
End in burdening
The people I know, never leaving it alone
A dog beggi...
Similar writing prompts
POEM STARTER
Please, leave alone my broken soul
Write a vilanelle that includes this in it. A vilanelle is a nineteen-line poetic form consisting of five tercets followed by a quatrain.