"undeterred" poems
I hear of your struggles
In every way
You tell me of them
Over and over and over
And I feel mixed
Twisted
On one side honored
You trust me enough to tell me
But on the other side worried
For how this consumes you
I found you in the midst of Dark
Shining as the brightest Light
Undeterred by the greatest of evils
And I was forever in awe
As a moth to its light
But instead of finding my solace in your warmth
You dimmed
Once withstanding anything thrown at you,
But instead finding darkness to come
From a place least expected:
From those closest
And the Dark took you
Elated in its clever nature
Now you complain
Over matters you would have brushed aside
I can see this aura around you
While once filled with the greatest Light,
Now lies tinged with specks of black
And I can see it consuming you
Perhaps I was naïve
Searching for something different in our world
A source of Light
Rather than a consumer of it
I’m glad I was able to witness your brilliance
As it taught me many things
No matter how brilliant your light,
The greatest Light
Only shows in times of the greatest darkness
Beaming into the Dark
A hopeless task
Yet filled with the greatest Hope of all
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
He wrote of the light of the world,
a testament, a lamp to illuminate
the place from which he came —
I saw his lighthouse coalesce
out of the cloaking mist, its blade
shearing the sheath of darkness.
I inhaled the dusk bloom scent
- Four O’Clock Flower, Poinsettia, Frangipani -
beguiled by a road, undeterred
by calls in the night, the rain, the unknown way.
I sang with one thousand night-drunk tree frogs
proclaiming an equatorial cycle to the stars,
choristers intoning a chant of existence.
I rode balanced between
the cycling engine's torque and the
reflective cast of my foreign skin.
I felt the grip of ignominy constrict the stir
of my drink, amongst hands toasting
the crush of entitlement’s bearing.
I walked where people dwell, and stop
to greet and tell news of the market
or of their nets, bearing the sea’s returns.
I savored the song in his speech,
a seasoned stew, unshackling the tongue
to ring like the steel of a drum —
a tapestry unfurled: a world
paced by sirens of wind and wave,
embroidered on the earthbound side
of heaven's abiding blanket.
Copyright © 2017 Gary Brocks
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 4:46 AM UTC
Electromagnetic Motion Ocean Of Pure Focal Emo-tion.
The Very Sound Of The Creators Verse And Rhythm In Loving Notion Pouring Through The Crystalline Endocrine Indoctrinated Shock Ra Of Shocking Unblocking Colorful Tones In Unmolested Focus And Definition.
To Flow Your Emo-tions Through Your Core And Manifest In Your Intended Notion All Without The Misidentified Horror Of The Wrongfully And Negatively Defined Emotions, One Finds That The Mere Act Of William Tell And That Apple Upon The Head Must Have Been One Hell Of An Interesting Interaction, Yet Instead Of The Reassuring Smiles And Calm Demeanor Of The Archer As They Lock Eyes, What Pray Tell You Think The Eyes Of The Archer Looked Like On That Very Frozen In Time Moment As He Released The Arrow To Guided Love Of Perfected Intent And Delivery Of Safe And Demanding Fortitude Of Action To Defeat All Possible Variable , As If To Need To Bend The Very Laws Of Nature If They Were To Cause An Number Of Odd And Unpredictable Events To Derail The Intent Of The Man Shooting The Apple Off The Head Of His Dear Child's Head, For Not A Bird May Pass Between, Not A Gust Of Wind Be Seen, Not An Earthquake Be Fabled To Accrue, Not A Single Action But The Undeterred Focus Of Absolute Might In Will, His Fee Will In Flight. What Might His Eyes Be Relaying In That Frozen Moment? Reassurance, Pity, Fear, Confidence, Or The Electric Fire Of Electromagnetic Motion Ocean Of Pure Focal Emo-tion To Get The **** Thing Done And Without Foolish ******** Reactions To The Real And True Focus Of Emotion, And Pray Tell, What If The Child Mistook This Look In A Moments Notice And Flinched Out Of Concern That The Father Was Angry With Him? Or Is It Best To Realize The Real Importance Of This Story As It Is The Trust In The Definitions Of Intended Focus And Not Of Simple Trust.? ,... Yes, Intended Focus Of Emotions Being Trusted As True And Not Negative In Nature, Dear Friend, Yes. So Let Your Soul Be Your Pilot, Let The Flow Of Emotion Be Free And Not Dictated By The Restraints Of Control And Be Seen And Used In Negative Ways, For These Are The Crimes Against All Mankind And The Bigger Part Of Why Spoken Word Is The Very Spell That Binds The Psyche, For The Focus Of Or The Lack Of Focus Of Emotions True Meaning And Purpose Is The Crime Against All Life Indeed. Live Free And Pilot This Love Ship Successfully By No Longer Defining Self By The Ways And Means That Have Caused Us To Fear Our Own Power To Move Mountains, And Kept Us All Mustard Seeds When We Are Truly Far More Than You Can Believe. Feel Free, Yes, By All Means Feel Free.
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
Rejection
There is a tightness in my chest,
because repeatedly I've been put to the same test.
Torturing me over and over again,
I'm longing now for emissary vein.
How much longer should I maintain optimism,
it just wants to carry on to pessimism.
It's a wound that won't stop bleeding,
but still showing gratitude and I'm still breathing,
for how longer should I except defeating.
I've been tested to love, but she won't love me back.
I've been tested to be shoved,
but thereafter I can't remain in place for walking upright on that track.
I've been tested counting down the list of all Woman whose affection
was unreturned.
But this list is yet far from having a cut to be undeterred.
Thereof I'm asking myself again"
Does true love really exist ?
Today I still would say yes, cause I've been able norishing my list.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 8:15 PM UTC
“What if God was a woman?” Asked Lois undeterred.
Well well well, if God was a woman — she continued —
Perhaps agnostics and atheists, wouldn’t say no with our heads
but we'd say yes with our guts.
Perhaps we would approach to her divine ******
to kiss her feet not of bronze, her pelvis not of stone,
her ******* not of marble, her lips not of gold.
If God was a woman, we would embrace her to steal her from her horizon
and you wouldn’t have to swear “till death do us part”
because it would be already inmortal by antonomasia,
and instead of give you AIDS or panic,
contagious her everlasting life would be.
If God was a woman, she wouldn’t lie far away in the kingdom of heavens,
but she’d live in the vestibule of hell waiting for us,
with her arms not closed, her rose not of plastic, her love not of saints.
My God, my God… — if for ever and from ever you were a woman —
how beautiful scandal it would be, what a fortunate, splendid, impossible,
prodigious blasphemy.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 1:50 PM UTC
When Coyote witnessed
the Creator making this world
he thought
I will make a world like that
for myself
And so he formed a copy
of every living thing
from the mud
from the branches
and detritus that he gathered
there on the banks
of the Columbia River
But all of his
carefully wrought figures
elk and deer
fish that sparkle in the shallows
black bear
who hides from two-leggeds
the wings of the air
who mingle with the leaves and branches of the forest
all melted back into the mud
of the riverbank
at the next rain
Undeterred
Coyote set out
on a quest
He found a new country
a pleasant land of vast expanse
with every manner of good things
When Coyote came into this country
his hunger
was greater than myth
sharp as the edge of a knife
And there he spied Crow
on a high cliff
with a mouth full
of deer fat
A plan quickly formed
in the caverns of his cunning
Coyote called out
Chief Crow
I am told that your voice
is as sweet as spring water
as pleasing as a woman
in the night
Sing for me
Great Chief
and I will reward you richly
Crow is a vain creature
and being called Chief
gave him great pleasure
He preened
opened his silver wings to the sun
and sang his rough song
but in a muted tone
in order to save
his delicious morsel
Coyote called out again
Oh Chief!
That wasn't much.
not like the stories
I have been told.
Please sing your song again
with feeling!
Crow rose to his full height
****** his sharp beak
into the air
and gave full voice
to his raucous song
for the sake of every crow
on earth
We know the end of this tale
because Coyote taught it
to our ancestors
The deer fat fell to the ground
and Coyote
trickster
scarfed it in an instant
Hunger dampened
he ambled along the well-beaten path
to find the next fool
And that is the story
of Coyote and Crow.
Keep your pride in check
or be the next one laid low.
Aug 4, 2016
Aug 4, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC
(Inspired by article below)
I.
Continuity
your filibuster egg of sand
dazzled curiosity
with creaky shell of hints
heaped upon the tedium
of knowledge's unfurl undeterred
by encyclopedic impatience
Assurances of rip(Van Winkl)ed
economics shooed paper strings of
revelation like anarchy-powered
taxes summoning a foreword
to anachronistic campaigns
of environmental friendliness
II.
Meanwhile years
have been filed down to flashes of
chronology for continuity's organic rebus
However long it took
the economic karma to fall into the
abodes of hedonistic pharaohs
it was instant
Skin that ruled behind the constitution
of allergic breath
bailed on the bones against their most
sublime intentions
Limbo-treading landlords
huddled in their mummified freeze
after breadline bashers scolded them
with the spoils of a new brand
of pyramid scheming
Robbers of the coffin palaces
stole the intimations of identity
theft from today
Immortality and freedom
were compelled to share a meaning
like estranged siblings
or bound dynasties
I(a).
Abydos
how you coyly toyed with us
with a diversion bordering on monolithic
04 23 14
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
Candid smiles radiate waves of happiness,
And the promise of foreboding tenderness.
Pupils dilate at the sight of chaste skin
Your body position enumerates control, we’re ready to begin.
Vibrant red rose petals sprinkled on expensive white lace
As I lay pressed against you, I hear your strong heart race.
Your eyes undress me, while your mouth seems to grasp for words unknown to individuals,
But known to every pair of souls entwined across the earth, who feel pure love, not strictly ******
Scratch marks on your back, the air is heavy and intense.
We move together, our senses heightened, slowly building suspense.
Loud screams and moans, a lovely and true symphony of feelings, then we’re through.
You lay back down, your breathing is rapid, I climb in your arms and kiss you.
Love is a verb, a doing word,
Love conquers all, undeterred.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
In hope
of skies blue,
vast and undeterred
are drying tears-
collected by unseen smiles
In threats of frigid
but burning ground below
is repentance-
A repentance found both sooner and later
One heavy with pastures of green- but none ever greener
In ancient words
from gilded pages,
bound in leather
hope and need
Are no ripe answers for the raging revolution,
only variant notions
shifting from here to there- and back again
The method of the three,
is mystery
beyond compare-
Black like the dark hours
that hide
the light of the day
Now and then-
all that can be done,
is to follow-
on bloodied foot,
over barren land
The aim of the carpenter
and his dinner guests
is and always was
direction
Purpose from an old- but new compass
in which one chooses to follow, deny
or silently go in search of other lovers-
all of a lesser degree
At the table of offering-
is space for bended knee
and an odd but abstract desire
for service
Not to self-
but to those who surround,
and swim in the very sea
in which the struggle
it is to cross
At the heart of creation
are mountains
and sandy crystalline beaches,
then city roads
All leading to country lanes,
fields, rivers, lakes
and vague dreams
Alas though,
no discernible
or translucent choice prevails-
All that's left
is the true and meaningful will-
of the weary traveler
Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 11:48 AM UTC
Heavy and laboured the air permeates within
Coursing through the maze of tunnels.
Undeterred of where stone ends and rock would begin
Survival that drives to fill its channels.
Slow rumble that ignites the need to beat
Awaken functions both lacklustre and listless
The engine behind these dread ridden feet
Drag its load through mundane tasks emotionless.
At the core there resides the truest of stones
A jewel of sheer rarity that inspires wonder
Breathes life selflessly into dead broken bones
It throbs and ebbs with silent subtle power.
Claimed it and perched it deep on a pedestal
Protected it like it's the one and only source
It's what that keeps us sane and tolerable
It's what that pulls us through our course.
Whenever I think of if this gem would last
This monolith of a heart that I prop up *****
Stands steadfast hopeful of the light it'd cast
We have learnt so much of it to know that it is perfect.
You are perfect...
.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
The guy bangs awful, horrid creatures:
To touch these things you wouldn't dare:
And undeterred by beastly features,
He'll stick his slimer anywhere.
O.O
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 1:24 PM UTC
I’m here in my mask;
I only wear it on good days,
A mask to hide the scars;
The scars of my life and yours,
Reflecting away my fear;
Ever present yet unseen.
I’m here in my mask;
I wish I wore you more often,
Without expression or feeling;
Undeterred by glaring eyes,
Hiding unkindly shadows;
Silent and passionless.
I’m here in my mask;
Another lonely hidden day,
Sharp yet poker face grey;
Unbetraying to all my secrets,
Shrouded in mystery,
Afraid to feel; to live.
I’m here in my mask;
Yet tire of the truths you hide,
Every-time I wear you;
You fit less comfortably,
Pitted with imperfections;
Cracking like the man beneath.
I’m here in my mask;
But for how much longer?
Dissolving before my eyes;
One day I will take you off,
Lower my guard and reveal;
The mask beneath you.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 11:29 PM UTC
A perfect summer night;
moon shining in the sky,
fireflies surround us
as the light leaves our eyes.
We pay no attention to them,
so lost in our own thoughts,
that we didn't realize,
what was right before our eyes.
Their lights flick on and off,
much like our feelings do.
happy, sad, happy, sad,
what are we supposed to do?
We try to talk it out,
but our speech is a bit slurred,
regardless of the smoke,
our little friends stayed undeterred.
I felt like you saw right through me,
but they saw me plain and clear.
They could see the hurt;
something you mistook for fear.
Anxiety gets the best of you,
is there any room for me?
All you do is judge me,
for things I don't even see.
I haven't changed at all,
I've been here all along.
Do you know how hard it is?
To try to stand so tall?
With everyone leering at you,
breaking down your walls;
you're all that I have left,
so, before this castle falls;
I just wanted you to know,
that I'm not hiding any thing.
I need you to trust me,
I can't stand the sting...
your anxiety is killing me,
and the fireflies know;
because they paid attention;
and helped me see with their soft glow...
that maybe we can't fix this,
maybe we're too far gone.
So please just lay here with me,
and we'll watch just one more dawn;
together.
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 6:47 PM UTC
Glorifying amidst the snowy mountains bestowing
rivers with a splendid shine searching a land
to shower its warmth in a dense grassland,
sun rises with the dawn
like the spring blooming life in the lawn.
Cold on the cemetery lay like the corpse,
the flower in concealed corner of the lawn.
Life rejuvenates it to exhibit its charisma.
With its exquisite grace,
life fills the daffodils
blooming merrily in the meadows
with the exotic flush of odor enchanting thee .
Life of seven ages leaps and exits slyly like a stranger.
Neither the witty nor the wisest nor do the philosophers
can bamboozle the fate, neither can they preconceive
the lot ,the fate has in store in each slot
hence live the life with fullest enthusiasm and zeal,
the chariots of life bridging
the expedition between birth and rebirth.
Struggle the chill like a gladiator
stand undeterred by the worldly woes.
Life is symbolization of bluebells,lavenders
hedychiums planted on a deserted road,
blend of happiness and agony .
Surrendering to agony is pure escapism.
Each has to surrender on the altar of death
a day or later ,
but till life why not worship the life
like an idol enshrined in the temple
so when thee are asked of
satisfaction in the heavens high
thou may not quote "alas it could have been a day later"
rather thou may be the most enlightened
devotee to stay in the state of bliss and utmost salvation.
Men say life is mortal
But life is eternal you see,
the life is like a divine cascade of holy waters,
one drop dies ,other rejuvenates to life.
Till the nature lives, shall live
the men and generations yet to come.
Life is pouring like the nectar from the heaven's brink,
quite insane it would be to not drink the summary of life.
BY CHANDAN SHARMA
Sep 11, 2010
Sep 11, 2010 at 12:09 PM UTC
i am on a disk
and the pale, blue dot
is paler than ever before
above me
is more blue
a simulated sky
and a basin we've come to call
our shores
uncoupled
untethered and undeterred
there's a tree in my yard
whose roots reach
the barriers of our world
they long to touch
that void
that would see the waves
we tide
frozen still
Apr 5, 2021
Apr 5, 2021 at 2:13 PM UTC
It taunts us
It frightens us
Like darkness in day
Like shadows that slay
Swells of the ocean
Swells of a black potion
A true death
A true last breath
Murdered by aspiration
Murdered by suffocation
Your own creation
Your own demolition
Screaming loud to be heard
Screaming undeterred
There is a ray of light
There is sun in sight
Air is on the way
Air without delay
More than a word
More than what’s heard
Keep up the fight
Keep away fright
Shove darkness away
Shove death to obey
Breathe and climb up
Breathe to fill your cup
Joy is what we need
Joy will get us freed
Come on now
Come and bow
Only to the light
Only a continued fight
For it taunts us
For it frightens us
Don’t give up
Don’t give up
See the joy ahead
See it and darkness shed
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 7:43 PM UTC
yesterday my thoughts lost in the pines
i heard a rustling of leaves crooned
the sunlight sheepishly trespassed between the thick branches
and I stepped forward, and I slipped
then I stood up seeing the hollow
it was left ajar
although undeterred, I was afraid
of uncertainties thrilling my veins
suddenly my body flitted like water roaming in a drainway
my mouth spoke an unknown language
of pain
and ache
unfamiliar faces cherished my appearance
it was vague, not that dim
and they said I was born.
May 17, 2021
May 17, 2021 at 3:46 AM UTC
A man and his brother set on a task
An undertaking attempted many times by others
To no avail nothing and no one could succeed
But their vision was to them possible
It seemed that this feat was not meant to be
The world told them to quit
If God wanted it to be he would have giving you the tools
Yet they were undeterred in this goal
They toiled and worked
They slaved and sweated
Failed many times in their task
But together they crawled toward their aim
One day they finally did it
They climbed aboard their creation
And started a new era in the modern world
Finally these brothers did the impossible
Their names were Wilbur and orville wright
Stubbornness is perhaps the greatest gift God has given man
Those who have it are mocked and berated by their clan
Undeterred they continue toward their mission
Never swayed by words blinded by their ambition
When the dust settles everyone sees
The answer to success is this disease
More things have been done
By unrelenting men seeking the long run
Stubbornness may in fact be wrong
Alas anyone can see this burden is carried only by the strong
Nov 16, 2010
Nov 16, 2010 at 11:20 AM UTC
In a rained-out world
painted in shadow
smeared by waters
and bus stop-
undeterred,
her red umbrella
burns crimson through
desolate darkness
like random library
selfies of beauty
buried in paper skin,
shielded by her
red umbrella
In an overcast world
stencilled in sorrow
her umbrella-
so red, so shiny-
reaches out to me,
taking all my woes
and weary waters away
when I hear her say-
"Hey, write me a poem
about a red umbrella"
In a sunny world
etched in joyance
dabbed in frappé-
my four-wheel red umbrella
drives us from
country to café,
where perfectly good
grand pianos meet
symphonic chaos,
amicably amplified as we mingle
under our red umbrella
~
NM
09/20/16
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
I am a sucker for your laugh, your smile, your soul
living life in your bastille curled up in a hole;
owning up to your walls, guards up, just standing by;
voraciousness owing and yearning lest I die.
entranced by your beauty, I find myself struggling
your eyes, locked with mine, a passion that is stifling
obscured from plain view is the thirst to surrender
undeterred by respite, a pledge of forever.
allow me to stand beside, inches from your world
my desire is to consume each flesh of your word
I can no longer bear the longing for you
nary a howl of protest what you put my mind through
amidst the ocean of divergence, I tell thee:
“hold fast and hold steady, as mine you will be.”
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 11:22 PM UTC
The Devil and God were sat across from each other.
A simple card game of life they both engaged.
3 Aces God pulled out what a great play, The devil was raged and with it he did say.
"With blood and rage of crimson red,
Ripped from a corpse so freshly dead,
Together with hellish hate,
I will burn you all--that is your fate!"
God sat quietly and undeterred then came back with these simple words
"In loudest din or hush profound,
My ears catch evil's slightest sound.
Let those who toll out evil's knell
Beware my power your going Down!"
The forth ace was laid upon the table, and with that the Beast was disabled,Back to hell he fled never to return.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 7:45 AM UTC
*A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.*
Ecclesiastes 3:5.
long, long long
have I known
the contradictory meaning thereof,
for I authored it,
time immemorial
till the day came
when understanding parted,
left for another prophet,
another poet,
for this how the world's words go,
round and around
left me
re commencing
re imaging
re imagining,
new era words,
newer versions,
new heards
newer mergings
stones and embraces
ha!
"Two of my favorite things"
no, that's been done...
"Let's go get ****** and..."
nope, that's been done
So,
spark sublime divine
give me a second chance,
compose me a vision
that gathers these
mutual funds of
contrasting similarities
in a bow tied connection
singular, worthy of
song and daily recitation!
*her embrace was a stone necklace
around my throat,
sackcloth was my shroud,
to the sea bottom was impaled,
by the stony apparition
of the unrequited embrace*
Ugh
*My beloved's embrace,
cracked the stones that surround
my uncaring register,
the cold still waters that hid it
now boiling from
her gathering me in*
better.
one last try before I repent
*embrace the stones
that obstacle the journey,
gather them in, together keep,
for they are the markers,
you have used,
you have been,
you have exhausted,
so long after the body ashed,
these words will trace for
those that follow the path
you marked with
these same stones
you gathered in
olden days of
simple joyous embrace*
this will,
must have to
do,
for the stones of
the angels of sleep have
arrived and undeterred,
upon my chest have,
inscribed and placed,
while bidding me adieu,
tucking me in,
gathering me to my rest,
a closing eyeing embracing,
in drowsy voices half clear:
sleep prophet,
the work done,
the words piled,
the stones now
mark your the
you final resting place
upon them ecrivez,
In The Future,
Keep It Simple Stupid
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 5:58 PM UTC
My love it runs deep, carving paths through tiny crevices,
under the surface, within.
It cascades over jagged edges, smoothly, undeterred, undevided.
My love it runs swiftly, not holding back, resolute and ever-knowing
where the basin-home lies, wide-open.
Shall it be cut off from the main-stream course, an unexpected turn-
it keeps gliding, slowly, gently onward.
And shall it lose momentum, caught in a depression, turn
murky, foul, lifeless - patience - over seasons or ages
it shall rise and become clear, weightless.
My love is never old - change is her shadow - loss, a mirage
on the long journey through the frenzied jungle, home.
Formless is her nature, unbecoming and rebirth - her breath -
every moment, anew.
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 9:01 PM UTC
Session 1
*Greet people you meet;
smile and give 'em a Presidential wave*
Session 2
Facilitator:
*What happened to you
Participant Jones?
Would you care to tell everyone?*
Participant Jones:
*This man at the mall
stepped up to me and punched me
Cause, he said, I was smiling at his woman*
Facilitator:
*Be undeterred, O participant Jones
Be persistent - practise positive behaviour*
Session 3
Facilitator:
*What's with that bandage on your head
O participant Jones?
Would you care to tell everyone?*
Participant Jones:
*That's where my wife's ladle landed
O positive Facilitator -
for my wife thinks I'm trying to get fresh
with the women in the neighbourhood
with my exuberant smiles and hand waves*
Facilitator:
*Have no regrets, practise in earnest;
the broad smile wins all hearts*
Session 4
Participant Jones did not attend;
has not been heard from since Session 3
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 2:22 AM UTC
The president of the horticulture club
thumbs the violet leaves of a aconite
ignoring the shooting pain crawling on her skin.
The other members glare at her,
waiting for the reaction-
touch the frail plant
and your mouth is sure to set on fire.
The contact she has on the flower
is insanely dangerous.
Potent alkaloids bloom overhead
and she continues to breathe in deeply as if she is trying to swallow
the strong, acrid taste of the atmosphere,
which should have sent her into a frenzy of disorientation
and seizures of her small limbs
but at last, she glances
at the frozen treasurer and spoke calmly, her mouth slouching,
"Are you writing this down?
I want the future of this club
to know to never touch plants
without doing their research."
Then she blinks,
slumps against the bench,
undeterred.
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 12:10 PM UTC