Poetry &
Short Stories
Poem: Lost Leaves
"Lost Leaves," is short poem that represents the changes we go through in life. It's short and sweet, but packed with meaning.
Lost Leaves By: Lee Hall Emerald leaves hold tight to branches. A pleasant breeze gently passes through. The leaves rattle, brushing against each other, Only one parts ways with the tree. Slowly gliding through the air, Until it lands softly on blades of grass. But the tree doesn’t weep over a fleeing leaf, It will sprout many more for years to come. One day It won’t even think about what it has lost, Because trees live on; Growing thicker And more vibrant. Standing strong when faced with Snow, Floods, And drout. Bearing resilience in their roots. They become mighty. I want to be more like trees.
Poem: I Was a Villain
"I Was a Villain," is a poem that expresses the person someone can become when struggling with active addiction, and how sobriety can truly change who we see.
I Was a Villain By: Lee Hall The new me is what I see in the mirror. It’s odd, My reflection is unrecognizable. She is someone who radiates warmth, Lends a hand before you ask, Will laugh loud enough to shake the house. But the old me, I haven’t forgotten about her. She was different, She was a villain; Who thought she was a victim. But, that’s because she was blinded by self-pity, Fueled by self hate, Resulting in self destruction. She drank until every word slurred and Every object in her path broke. The kind that would snort anything she could; Until her breathing was shallow, Her heartbeat was unrhythmic, And her mind transcended. Her world was scorched, Burned by her own actions, But she kept going. It was her out. Her way to numb each living breath. However, What blacked out her torment Caused hurt to bystanders. Every chemical And every ounce of liquor Caused her to detonate. The shrapnel cut through the innocent, Causing stability to disintegrate. She was a villain, Thinking the world was in debt to her. In her mind, universe used her like a toy. But that was far from true. No matter how many deadly situations came; From a blade dancing next to her jugular To drowning in fatal substances, She survived. No one had ever turned their back on her. The universe was watching out, Quietly guiding her to the truth. She was given a gift, The gift of having another chance. It took years to realize She didn’t want to be a villain. She wanted to change. The old me tries to escape, She picks at the cracks, Hoping to be freed. She whispers lies. But I am not a villain.
Short Story: The Helmet
"The Helmet" is a short sci-fi story about an item found in a swamp. It's foreign, but the protagonist hopes to pawn off this mystery item and make a few bucks. However, the item that could have earned him some extra cash twists into misfortune.