Foaming oceans and secret potions

Foamy, translucent blue swells
give birth to an abundance of tiny seashells.

A few find their path and scuttle away,
but many more find themselves lost in the vast array.

The stranded ones lie in crevices hoping they’ll be found
before the savage sea pounds them into the ground.

A few get noticed by curious little hands,
but most get tossed back into the abrasive sand.

The ones that survive are mostly made of pristine perfection
while the others bide their time in a constant state of rejection.

Silently they wish for secret potions that do not exist,
at last being pulled under, lost to the murky mist.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/water-surf-nature-sea-wave-ocean-3194377/

Writing prompt: Foaming oceans and secret potions

Something to cling to…

Amid the chaos
of our cluttered world,
sometimes we have only
but a past moment,
something distinctly different
from all the other colorless days.
And that one solitary moment,
the one we treasure
with fondness and love
gives us something to cling to
when we can no longer see
a single thread of light.
Those rare moments exist
to reassure us during the times
when the dark dares
to snuff out our light.
That one blessed memory
is often what unexpectedly
sees us through.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/black-and-white-monochrome-people-2590418/

Unacceptable

His words fester beneath the surface,
weary words of disdain and ill repute.
But what can I do,
and how can I be anything more?
For I am just another daughter,
a regret still in the making.
And my existence is a constant reminder
of all he’s ever done wrong.

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/woman-mysterious-traveler-journey-5718089/

 

I once was…

I once was a child
Left broken and battered
Mostly locked away
As if I never really mattered

I once was a small girl
Always searching for a way
To be free from the shackles
That plagued me every day

I once was a young lady
Just wanting to belong
Only realizing my efforts
We’re pointless all along

I once was a grown woman
Looking for a hand to hold
But after a long, futile search
I discovered I’d become too old

I once was an old lady
Holding onto deep regret
Wishing the good Lord
Would just make me forget

And now I’m a crushed spirit
Dreaming of the past
The life I once knew
Just went by way too fast

If only I’d accepted
The life I’d been given
But instead I just looked down
Never really livin

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/autumn-hand-leaves-red-puddle-2917472/

I miss my America

I miss my America,
the land of the free
and the home of the brave.
Every day I see sadness,
war beaten faces
from battlefields,
found in my own backyard.
We used to be one nation
united under God.
We were indivisible with liberty
and practiced justice for all.
But how many people
even remember
our nation’s promised pledge.
The allegiance we swore
to the flag of our forefathers,
is a promise we failed to keep.
The roots of our republic
have somehow been forgotten
and the turmoil caused
from present day happenings
has torn the unity
straight from our hearts.
It’s a dishonor to our nation,
but even more so
a disgrace to our God.
Freedom of speech
never gave us the right to ruin
what our brave forefathers
fought to defend.

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: Pixabay.com

Let’s leave the past, to live where it died.

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I keep trying
to forget the past.
To leave all the hurts
buried deep
on that old,
empty road.
The place where
I was deserted,
left choking on remorse.
But everybody
wants answers,
and nobody understands
that I can’t breathe.
And when I’m forced
back on that road,
I can’t heal
or even catch my breath.
The air over there
is stifling.
And so many
broken dreams
are still dangling
in the wind.
I can’t keep
reaching out,
grasping hopelessly
at those lifeless strands.
So please,
I’m begging you,
let’s just leave the past
to live where it died.
Or else this life
won’t be worth living
at all.

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/people-woman-walking-hike-trek-2569740/

The way love is…

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We can love with all we’ve got
And we can give our hearts away
But that doesn’t necessarily mean
That the ones we love will stay

And sometimes there are people
Who just can’t love you back
No matter what we say or do
There’s something that they lack

And maybe it’s because
Some people just can’t see
The importance of a person
Who’d give everything like me

© 2019 Michelle Cook

The enemy’s weapon of choice

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I continue to waste minutes
days…
even years.

Why?
Why do I continue?
And yet here I sit.
Pondering…
More pondering…
Until I’m near to tears.

And all those things ―
the ones the enemy knows
will pierce my heart.

He sends them my way…

Again, why?
Why is this world allowed
to be ruled by such evil?

If I were a god,
I’d do away with all of it.
Does it give pleasure to the almighty,
to see us suffer?

Sharp objects like daggers,
of course they hurt.
But it’s the soft-edged blade,
the one that slips between my ribs,
the one I never even notice
until it’s too late.
This is the enemy’s weapon of choice,
the one that devastates my heart.
And the damage is irreparable.

 

© 2020 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/people-woman-beauty-floor-model-2589639/

My Sarah bunny…

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You’re the only one
who truly ever knew me.
I confided in you
nearly every day.
I whispered to you
all my secrets in the dark,
and promised you
everything my little heart could give.
You were the only one who listened
every day when the fights erupted.
You heard my screams
and comforted me the best you could.
When I cried my eyes out,
spilling out countless tears,
you showed me
that I was not alone.
You never left my side,
which always made me feel loved.
And you’re still special to me,
even though you’re not a living being.
I think you’re the only reason
I had any hope at all back then
because my little girl eyes
couldn’t find love or comfort anyplace else.

© 2020 Michelle Cook