When my friend wakes
it’s as young as he'll ever be
waking up on the one-yard line
not knowing if he'll score
Could be a hero
scoreless before the half
the clock runs out
his absence is currently missing
I wish it was different
but he is everything
to someone
Not buying into his motto
getting worst at excuses
now 3rd down 2 yards
He typically is a wall flower
now awake sprinklers on
groundcrew checking the field
Felt like he was shot by a bullet not understanding where he is ideas, he had in his mind lie beyond the surface of the mere physical
About the Creator
MR BRIAN SLUGA
I am Brian Sluga, change management consultant, author, sports lover and husband. I have a Bachelor’s from Bradley University and am in the MFA creative writing program at Lindenwood University. Consider my stories, poems and nonsense.
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Tortured Soul
The soul careened blindly through a void where it scraped against the walls of a narrow tunnel, amassing a cumulative friction that created all the heat the devil would ever need to torment it. There was no light at the end, not even a fire. From the bottom a cold wind blew, and the clash of extremities spawned vapors of terror in the deadened and numbed appendage that was this strange, delirious, drunken consciousness.
By C. Rommial Butler6 days ago in Fiction
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