If I could capture a star
And place it in a crystal ball
And show it off to the world
If I could take every masterpiece
Ever sold
And combine it into the museum of my heart
I'd do it
If I could take every relic
Of good times
And combine it into one
I'd do
If I could
Cross every sea
And take the storybook
Landscape photo
For you
I would
But all the things
Beautiful in nature
Great in stature
Don't compare to the beauty you exude
Perfection in kind
Greatness in mind...
About the Creator
Sydney robinson
Take a look into my head
Keep reading
More stories from Sydney robinson and writers in Poets and other communities.
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson3 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.