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MicMag Nov 2018
I once was found
But now I am lost
Took a wrong turn
Got my signals crossed

Used to know who I was
Now I don't have a clue
My world's been flipped
Since I first met you

My life was planned out
I had a grand vision
Now it's been wrecked
By our reckless collision

But I'd rather be lost
On this wild ride
Than find all I desire
Without you by my side
PAD Poem-A-Day Challenge November 2018

Write a lost poem. Or…
Write a found poem. Or...
Write both.
MicMag Nov 2018
Wind whispers to me
"I bring cold, aromas, leaves"
I know life's a breeze
PAD Poem-A-Day Challenge November 2018

"a private poem"
MicMag Nov 2018
Don’t plead like Biebs
Timbaland was right
Too late for "sorry"
Can’t erase the blight
Your apologies
Might seem polite
But all your white lies
Have been brought to light
Selfish transgressions
Brought this plight
Upon your own life
Despite the height
Of your own success
Now it seems so trite
As they kick you out
Into the cold, dark night

Mistakes explode
Like dynamite
As your life ignites
Failures burn so bright
Crashing down in fury
Dead meteorite
You feel the pain
Your enemies delight
Nowhere to hide
Your shame in plain sight

Adrenaline surging
Now it’s fight or flight
So just take a sec
Sit down, rewrite
Reset your future
Set yourself upright
Your values and actions
Gotta reunite
Redemption’s hard
No way to expedite
It’s gonna hurt
But hang in tight
PAD Poem-A-Day Challenge November 2018

"an apologetic poem"
MicMag Nov 2018
That's it, I'm done, not once more
I'll never put things off again

I push work back at every chance
My secret slothful sin

Well now I'm through procrastinating
It's time to change my ways

But I don't have the time right now
Swear I'll quit one of these days!
PAD Poem-A-Day Challenge November 2018

"Tired of _____"
MicMag Nov 2018
on a bright yellow stone slab bench
beside a cobblestone path
diving steeply into dark forest

my page illuminated
by the last trace of filtered sunlight
this overcast Friday eve

mountains peeking through low clouds
marking dark silhouettes
against a blue-gray southeast sky
hints of pink paint the western clouds
softly bidding us goodnight

scattered shouts
and musical notes
waft up from the town's bars below
dancing through the trees
flowing to the rhythmic folklore
of the local vallenato band

night closes in
darker each minute
the thin yellow crescent overhead
seizes its moment
shining brighter and louder
through the wispy clouds

as mountains emerge at last from fog
they dissolve just as quickly
into the black sky

all vibrant hues melt away
the bench transforms
dark yellow becomes gray
beneath my weight

one last vestige of color lingers on
the dull red burning on the horizon
sparks an inner fire of gratitude
for every second of light
every second of life

my page descends into darkness
written thoughts plunge back
into the unexpressed depths of the mind

Night falls.
PAD Poem-A-Day Challenge November 2018.

Nov 2 Prompt:
"write a darkest hour poem"

This is a reworked old poem originally written at dusk in a beautiful mountain setting in Colombia.
MicMag Nov 2018
He wants none of it
The unrelenting fame
Paparazzi's lights
Never out of sight
The crushing weight
Of a well-known name

He wants none of it
The life-******* fame
Endless demands
From legions of fans
Happiness funneling
Right down the drain

He wants none of it
The soul-deadening fame
Prestige a cruel mistress
All joys turned to business
Dousing his spirit
To extinguish its flame

No, he craves anonymity
For stardom to cease
To be happy with less
Freed from the stress
True glory found
In a life lived in peace
PAD Poem-A-Day Challenge November 2018.
"write a glorious poem"

Prompt from Writer's Digest:
MicMag Nov 2018
Let's try to craft one poem a day
A month of our thoughts conveyed
Just give it a shot
Why the hell not?
Let our words find their own way
November 2018 Poem-a-day Challenge.
I'll be following prompts from Writer's Digest this month. Feel free to join along if you're looking for inspiration!
Anna Marie May 2015
You're my snickerdoodle, pumpkin strudel,
You're the sauce upon my noodle,
You're prettier then a purple poodle,
You're the one I like to doodle,......on my doodle pad,...
Kiana Lynn Apr 2015
With pen and pad in hand,
I’m finally ready to take a stand.
This is how I get my words out best,
it’s kind of like a written test.
It seems to be the only thing that works
when it comes to you, I get flustered by that smirk.
But something about written words is easier,
I bet you’re starting to wonder if it could get cheesier.
Maybe it’s because of your eyes,
and how they reflect the night skies.
Or how every inch of my body reminds me of you,
it’s like to me, this body is brand new.
My hands, they are now meant to hold yours
or how you’re the one my heart adores.
See my body is no longer my own,
my ownership fell apart with every moan.
Thoughts like this, admissions like this,
seem to get lost amidst each kiss.
That’s why pen and paper are best,
for my admission here can attest.
I get a bit lost when you’re close to me,
our bodies intermixed means you’re all I see.
With a pen in hand, my thoughts aren’t all over,
I don’t feel like so much of a rover.
This is where it’s thoughtless,
where I’m anything but cautious.
So, this is so you know that I love you,
and with pen and pad in hand, it's easy to construe.
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