If they could prove karma was real,
How interesting it would be.
To see how good people would act,
Just you wait and see.
Children would always eat all their vegetables,
And put all their toys away.
They would know that if they did not,
It would come back on them one day.
Teens would pull their pants up straight,
And turn that music down.
If they knew fate was around the corner,
Ready to make them frown.
Adults would act much kinder too,
And not always look for ways to cheat.
If they knew time had in store for them,
A cosmically revengeful treat.
But what would be their motivation,
Would they do it for the right reason.
Or would they do it out of selfish gain,
Committing good deed treason.
written for: The Daily Post – Karma
phtot by: Samantha3089
If I could do it all again,
I know just where I’d begin.
I would have avoided the boss,
When the day got late.
And not be stuck at work,
Missing my date.
Or I would have skipped lunch,
Oh I made such a mess,
When I spilled spaghetti,
Down the front of my dress.
I would have avoided that hole,
I didn’t see.
That broke my heel,
As I stepped out of the taxi.
On second thought,
I change something else instead.
I think I would have,
Just stayed in bed.
written for: The Daily Prompt – Do Over
Forgetting to breathe is usually first,
And shortness of breath just makes it worst.
My face getting red all on its own,
Me feeling exposed all the way to the bone.
Wishing that I had just stayed in bed that day,
My words not helping to make it go away.
Once again I’ve outdone myself,
Another bright idea that should have been left on the shelf.
My hands start to sweat as my heart races too,
Why did I have to make such a silly mistake in front of you.
I try to walk away on trembling knees,
God, if you’re watching, help me please.
But there is no help, there’s only me,
I wonder if anyone again will take me seriously.
Wait, what was that, can it be true,
Did you just spill your coffee all over you too?
written for: The Daily Post – Embarrassed
(A young girl in her early twenties walks into an open space from seemingly out of no where.)
Man Already in the Room: Who are you? (He checks the girl out as he asks the question.)
Girl: Hi, I’m Avery. Who are you, you look familiar.
Man Already in the Room: Hugh Laurie.
Avery: Aren’t you that guy that plays House on TV?
Hugh: Not exactly, I’m what the girl who writes about us pictured him to be for a story. Same crass attitude, but not a doctor.
Avery: I thought you were British, what happened to your accent?
Hugh: She doesn’t do accents very well.
Avery: Which story did you come from?
Hugh: The pirate story. I was the captain, and I went down with the ship. No one actually saw me die though, so there’s a good chance I’ll make a comeback. What about you, what story were you in?
Avery: I was taking care of my sick grandmother, when she died she left everything to me.
Hugh: So you scored big?
Avery: (Looking somewhat put off by his comment.) No, all she had was this old house where she used to rent out rooms to travelers that were passing through. A couple of weeks after she passed this guy broke in and tied me up, starting pull up the floor boards look for some treasure his grandfather had hidden there.
Hugh: He rough you up a little bit? (Trying to find something to keep his interest in the conversation?)
Avery: He hit me a few times, drug me up the stairs by my hair. I shot him dead at the end, and my boyfriend and me ran off with the loot.
Hugh: (After hearing this last bit he perks up a little.) Sounds like you know how to party. But if he was dead, why not just stay?
Avery: He said he had friends and that they were coming too.
Hugh: So she left your story open too.
Avery: Seems that way. What do we do now?
Hugh: Wait, she’ll either write more about you, or not and you’ll start to fade away.
Avery: How long have you been here?
Hugh: Longer than you. (He says in a snarky way before looking around the room.) But not as long as that fairy witch and her magic bowl of water.
written for: The Daily Post – Dialouge
photo by: Matmoon
You’re there when I wake up everyday,
Always there but never in the way.
Your voice is always in my ear,
Telling me to keep going and never fear.
You tell me jokes that make me smile,
And you’re there as I walk every lonely mile.
You’re there each night as I lay down in bed.
My forever friends that live in my head.
written for: The Daily Post
photo by: hoschie
Oh my sweet bed,
Why are you so warm?
As the alarm clock again,
Seems to go off far to early.
I could just lay here,
For a little while longer.
And put off everything,
For a little while surly.
There is always tomorrow,
To do laundry, and dishes.
Having help with this stuff,
Is one of my everyday wishes.
Then I could stay up late,
To watch TV shows I don’t even like.
And ignore getting up early,
To ride the exercise bike.
But as I slap the alarm,
Something else happens instead.
My last shred of will power,
Kicks my sorry butt out of bed.
written for: The Daily Post – Barriers
picture by: celesse
When I was six,
I learned that I,
In twenty years,
Would surely die.
Now as a child,
I did not fret,
For twenty years,
Was a long time yet.
But time goes fast,
When you don’t watch,
And now I sit here,
Sipping my scotch.
On my twenty-first birthday,
For the sixth time,
Wondering if my final bell,
Is about to chime.
Or have I found a way,
To beat fate,
And slip past,
This morbid date.
written for – The Daily Post – The Number 26