Back to the bottom
From your rise to the top
All roads lead to Gotham
Where the criminals shop
Counting the I told you so’s
Can’t erase what’s been done
Accusations and mercy flow
Dancing on my tongue
Weighing on my mind
Depleting my soul
The bitter reminders
When you can’t let it go
Excuses and blinders
Won’t give you control
When you try to rewind
Saying anything goes
Welcome back to the club
Where the losers keep climbing
No need to feel dumb
It was a matter of timing
Till you were replaced
By the last runner up
A big smile on their face
Till their fifteen are up
And if you keep at it
Odds are you’ll play again
Keep piling the shit
Until you can call it a win
About the Creator
Kelli Sheckler-Amsden
Telling stories my heart needs to tell <3 life is a journey, not a competition
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More stories from Kelli Sheckler-Amsden and writers in Poets and other communities.
Muses & Musings
Welcome to my new series, a weekly blog on what’s inspiring me. I spent much of last week in bed with a stomach bug. I’ll spare you the details of that—but in addition to the grotesque physical symptoms, I had some fever dreams I won’t soon forget. Imagine my surprise to see Vocal’s newest challenge: Write a fiction story about a recurring dream or nightmare.
By Davina Zinn McKee8 days ago in Journal
Comments (2)
Quite the attitude showing here that we all feel from time to time.
Okay, I'll keep piling the shit until it hits the fan, lol. Loved your poem!