Wallowing worries wearisomely,
Wearying with weighty woes,
What woeful way we walk,
When worrying wields our will!
Worries won't win any wars,
Wont mend a broken heart,
Wary thoughts won't solve our woes,
Will waste away our hours.
Worrying, what worthless work!
Wasting whole weeks without worth,
We weigh woes with weariness,
While wisdom waits for our willingness.
Wailing won't ward off wrongs,
Wondering won't win the war,
Worries won't weather the waves,
Worries wean us from what we're working for.
About the Creator
Penny
Thank you for supporting my page :)
Clinging to Childhood
The playground is empty, as it should be past sundown. There is a warm breeze, and I can see everything despite the late hour. What time is it, anyway? It could very well be past midnight. I can never keep track of time, especially in the summer. A prickly piece of popcorn hides like a stowaway in the left cup of my padded training bra. I stuffed the tissue in last minute— a decision I’m beginning to regret, based on the events that are unfolding rapidly before me. To my left, laying non-chalantly on his back, is my date for the evening. He is two years older, could probably grow facial hair if he wanted to, and drives a secondhand Honda. He may as well be a Man. I, on the other hand, feel like a fraud with my too-short short-shorts, sparkly lip gloss, and makeshift push-up bra. I keep my arms pinned to my sides as I feel the dreaded circles of sweat beginning to manifest on my brand new Abercrombie top. I cup my elbows with my hands and stare down at my hint of cleavage, praying that the tissue doesn’t pop out like a white flag surrendouring my lack of womanhood.
By Marti Maley6 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.