Writing Prompt
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My pack ready My weapons chosen Ready to attack Let fighting take over Instinct take over though I run through the blood Scared of who I saw die Run through the woods The river The plains Anywhere I go I run from the blood But it never escapes me I see it everywhere I go So I need only one goal in mind Survive I say Do it for all the people you killed For running away Just Keep On To Survive The World
Splintered driftwood carries me to shore The gray-lapping foam of the blue beyond Cradles my weary body to safety To feel the grain of the oat-coloured sand That pricks my skin I lay there for a moment Exhausted I exhale Thanking the gods from where ever For letting me be still Still in this tranquillity Away, from the teeth and tendrils That wish to plunge me To the depths of the deep down below I am relived I am alive I have survived.
Survive I create instead of destroying But I’m getting destroyed instead
Struggling Why I have nothing to struggle about I just want to give my love
But No one is taking Just disowning me; leaving me for no one Why can’t I just disappear Everyone discusses about me in negative light Even tho all I am is love
Just leave please I don’t get it leave me alone I’m just trying to survive
First there was one crow, and he was beautiful. Then came the other crows. The ocean was still. That’s how you knew that somewhere else in the world, all was in disarray. Jameson walked across campus every morning passing the old dying willow. He’d strip the limbs and weave them into a crown fit for a sinner. He’d learned the skill as a kid from his mother, before she passed. A seagull landed on a branch close to the willows rotting trunk. His mother’s favorite bird was a seagull. Jameson used to see them all the time when he was walking with his mother on a trail not far from their home. She’d say,
“Some say they’re thieves, but I think they just do what they are willing to do to survive. Whatever happens Jamie, you survive okay?”
Jameson would always say yes.
Until his mother had not survived stage four lung cancer.
Nowadays he didn’t see many seagulls. Mostly crows. But he thought they were okay. They seemed to speak his misery for him. He liked that. Broken harmony. Today he walked passed the willow looking up at the bird. He stopped to watch it. It studied him back. And then, a crow landed next to the seagull. Black feathers sleek and shining. Jameson smiled. His mom and his misery making peace. Another crow dismounted on another branch. Jameson watched in wonder as hundreds of crows started to fill the boughs of the old decomposing tree. A moment of quiet settled over the murder. And then they pounced. They ripped the seagull to shreds. Tearing at feathers drawing blood. Jameson stared in horror at the scene. And there, emerging from the seagulls remains, a crow. Beading its black bottomless eyes at Jameson as the rest of the murder focused on him. All was quiet.
I did what I had to I wish there was a better way I knew
It’s kill or be killed And my dreams need to be fulfilled
I’m sorry to those I hurt To those I left laying in the dirt
But it’s survival of the fittest My conscious ran to hide in the middest
I’ll never be the same I’m feral now, I’ll never be tame
Nightmares will haunt me It’s dead bodies on the ground that I see
I hope that they will accept my apology And know never the same will I be
I’m sorry to them all That I let take the fall
But I need to live My sorrows I give
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POEM STARTER
Deep Roots
Write a poem about the importance of roots - it could be physical (like a tree) or metaphorical (like a character's upbringing), or a comparison of both!