Author: drachenkreiger

Wads of Money.

Yeast infused Tastiness.

If I were a Baker

I would not be successful

since I would eat

all of my products.

The scars carved upon your soul

Are there for you to bear.

The trauma and the pain

Are the legacy left behind.

Those who left will never return.

But our memories

bottled up inside

will be the one thing

that keeps those moments alive.

You will hurt yourself

each time you remember their name.

So does time heal all wounds?

Or do you only get release

when you too join them

in the grave?

It happened one night.

Supper to be.

The bag of frozen peas.

Slipped from tired hands.

All over the stove.

All over the floor.

Some in the pot

but more rolled out the door.

Days later

the broom still finds

a lonely last pea

swept up from behind

the fridge.

Wash.

Dry.

Fold.

I have started

The first two.

The last

I leave to you.

Things go rotten.

Foul and stained.

The odours that waft

Makes gagging inane.

People corrupted

Bring relationships to an end.

The stench of their lives

Creates a world to mend.

We care more for ourselves

And forget our neighbours.

A smile.

A wave hello.

Who leaves behind a legacy

Where the sweet smell of them flows?

Gardens are for enjoying.

Landfills only get trashed.

Showers.

Dressed.

Pick up the miscellaneous.

Drive to the gathering.

Arrive and be welcomed

As one who is loved.

Dread in anticipation.

Fear of being judged.

Hark the time of jubilation.

Family should be joy.

Sometimes, things are learned too late.

Love still surrounds,

But understanding takes the back seat.

If only the camera was ready.

High Functioning.

Low Functioning.

Functioning to be alive.

Society thinks you are okay

If you show signs of competence.

Does it matter if you break down?

Only if it is in public

and then you are only shamed.

Time slows down.

It never stops.

The lights flicker.

Then they pop.

Life moves on.

Death comes for all.

Nothing is certain.

Nature makes us small.

We begin a fire.

Tinder used first.

The flames burn brighter.

Then coals are produced.

Things begin.

Things end.

We all live and die

but the flames inside

are what we burn for.