Fears To Be

Waves rock me slowly to sleep
As the skies begin to weep
Their mist of tears caress my cheek
For the condolences they wish to seek

Wearily I rest my head
Upon the coarse floorboards of my bed
I shut my eyes and try to bait
The sleep I anxiously await

But there is no slumber
When stranded at sea
There is only a number
Of fears to be



Glazed and slick
The rain laid thick
A misty haze
Her blank gaze

Lights and blood
A flash and a flood
Crash and burn
We’ll never learn

Stop and stare
They don’t care
Our last fight
Then put out the light


She laid impossibly still
On sterile sheets
And last bits of will

The lights are too bright
For this vacuum of time
And the walls are too white
For this black scene

Monotonous beeping
Coming from somewhere
Piercing weeping
Coming from everywhere

I should be crying
And bawling as well
But my insides are dying
Just like herself

She laid impossibly still
On sterile sheets
And last bits of will

The Young Professional


Daniel did not understand art, and the painted cow statues that stared him down from across the street were certainly no exception. He did not know why the beefy creatures were painted with flowers and leaves and other flora. He had always assumed they were some kind of vegetarian protest. As a protest to their protest, the young professional ate an 100% beef chili dog once a week while staring down the cows from the bench outside of his office in New York City. It had seemingly little effect on the cows.

As he chowed down on his delectable chili dog on one muggy New York day, a young woman sat on the opposite side of the bench. Daniel saw that she had an undeniably artsy aura about her, but was also undeniably beautiful, and in that moment the young professional quickly decided that he would learn to understand art.

“The Young Professional” is my submission the 59th FFfAW Challenge (Check it out here). It is composed of 150 words. Special thanks to SWritings for the challenge photo.

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