The sun was just an ordinary star
Till earth came into existence
And proved that it was very special
It's truly something very bizarre
Because even amongst billions of stars
The sun is somehow still special
Exact reactions had to occur in precise moments with billions of years of work going into making you, so why do you say you're not special?
Friday, the 13th.
Something bad is going to happen.
13 is an unlucky number.
But is it?
Can a number be unlucky?
Can something that is getting used in the world be unlucky?
13 is just a number.
A number that can mark a day, be something special for some persons.
But for me it is a lucky number.
No one can define what makes something lucky or unlucky.
Everybody decided for themselves what is supposed to be good for them.
Luck can not be predicted.
It just happens.
Luck is unlucky.
Never forget the little things in life, for it is these little things that truly make your life worth living…
Never forget to extend your courtesy, for this is what brings warmth into your life…
Never forget to share your smile, for this is what fills your heart with joy…
And never forget who you are… for this is what truly makes you so special…
You can carry it around
cupped in your hands
and not know the weight of its load.
You can hide it away
from those who wait
to pull it apart,
take its clauses from its subjects
and replace its pensive question marks
with the certainty of full stops.
You can repeat it
under your breath
You can give it away
to a person
worthy of such a polished gem,
release it into the world
and watch its words
weave meanings you never anticipated
by people you never predicted.
But you cannot
once it is formed;
for the words
you have breathed soul into
now have a life of their own.
The quality of Qualities.
But, man oh man,
Am I qualified?
the movie theater goes dark,
the trailers, the advertisements,
the silencing warnings, the advisements,
the darkening final and lastly,
"be sure to keep an eye on your valuables."
she turns to me and says,
"I've got my eye on you."
I cannot tell you the name of the movie
or what it was about,
as powerful shaky camera dizziness overcame.
But I can tell you about,
the special powers of women.
for it is one reason,
he writes only love poetry.
Among all those flowers,
and the green beneath,
I fetch that red fire
The rose she planted for me
On her special day!
The story of a life
Is not a simple one
It's an epic saga
Filled with many chapters
With elation and happy things
To undescribable horror and tragedy
Every story is different
In life as in a book
You meet lot's of characters
Some only want what best for you
And will help you any way they can
Whilst others will do anything
To hurt you or try to make you fail
You are the author of your book
Do with it what you will
But make it the best story ever
With all its ups and downs
Family, friends and each person
You've met along the way
That makes it special
©L Conway 2020
She's beautiful, does she know it?
She feels insecure.
Her past's foundation is unstable,
Loosed screws by the screwdriver who was once her anchor.
The man who was supposedly thankful for having her in his life,
Is now a distorted image in the back of her mind,
Still eating her insides.
Living parasites, thoughts of
"I really wish he would (wood) turn" might, (termite)
Not be what's she's truly after.
The sensation of instability is really what's killing her faster
The doubt creeping, one foot in the deep end,
Feels like time is moving faster
As she sinks deeper into the quick sand-mans plaster.
Oh! how she longs to start a new chapter in her life,
Not realizing the pen was in her hand the entire time...
Ma'am, what is it that you are truly after?
"Ok let see what happen",
says cerebral palsy in the form of my son
he chants the names of his favorite characters
wiggle around the clock
he walks with scissor steps and looks at me with a puzzled expression
when I lose my temper.
he was born dead but was saved just before he could
learn how traumatizing life is
he sees ghosts
a poem about my son who has cerebral palsy