Words
I wrestle with them.
Some are just worth fighting for.
And even one good word can make life worth living — bringing hope to a day, which might otherwise be dark and dismal.
But a bad word can be so disheartening — often reminds me of a rosebud that wilts before it ever has the chance to bloom.
If only our words could always be like rainbows,
we’d never have to feel so gray.
© 2019 Michelle Cook
I am living,
but I’m not living.
Been lost in a tailspin
of leftovers,
and today
I crashed.
Jumbled pieces of me
lie strewn about.
I don’t know which
to pick up first,
so I do nothing
as usual.
© 2019 Michelle Cook
Alabaster
in purest form.
Frozen diamonds
like tears from heaven.
Shimmery flecks
woven by the breath of winter.
Delicate intricacies
formed with care.
Fashioned for wonder
by the hand of God.
A split second miracle
marveled by all.
© 2019 Michelle Cook
Her Writing Haven 