Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “The Healing Touch” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo prompt challenge.

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Credit: Laura Williams

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Many faces have I, but don’t let me evaporate.

Too many masks I wear within to cover the scars that bind,

The twisting vines of ruined skin,

Not even plastic surgery could heal.

And the whispers of the dreadful night,

They haunt me in my sleep.

Each nightmare worse than the last, entrenching me in madness.

Crying and shaking, in a world I cannot escape.

My screams echoeing from the domed ceiling,

In St. Peter’s Basilica, my heart a kindled pyre.

Does God hear me, my fervent prayers without pride?

I know if He did, he would answer what I seek,

Provide relief from the cruelty of my suffering;

Of the ache and the burn in my skin.

He’d be a cooling gentle wind to end the burning flames,

I hope in my meekness for God as Elijah knew.

I try to forget. to move on, hiding behind masks so I’m safe.

My scars are not physical but they hide beneath skin,

Where plastic surgery cannot salvage a broken soul.

I’m a wretched bloody mess and my stomach is churning,

Why are the worst injuries, the ones you cannot see?

Why do people only see skin deep?

Not many will peer beneath the perfect layers of white ivory,

To see the layers underneath charred and scorched.

Many will not look past the words on your lips,

They are not interested in how a person says certain words,

Or why they say what do.

Many people hear only what they want to hear,

And if you choose to scream,

Than you’re the crazy one seeking attention.

But many screams are silent,

Before they are ever heard out loud,

This is why we need listeners and those with empathy,

To overcome those overflowing with ignorance and apathy to life;

To realize there is meaning in helping your neighbor out.

For we all have hidden scars and screams,

And most of them are dug deeply within our souls.

They wind around a person’s heart, a choking vine envokes —

A cry for help, so please hear it, long before we shout out loud,

Be still for a moment and listen well.

Respond before the masks hide many other faces and mine;

Act before you start cutting into our hearts,

Doing much more harm than good.

Watch your words and carefully avoid —

Assault and battery, for refusing to help those in need —

Refusing to help those lost in their pain. 

Heal with laughter and conversation,

A piece of your precious time.

Do not forget the meek and lowly,

We all need help discovering pathways into stardust.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: My Wildest Dreams


I spotted an exquisite Brick house, overgrown with leaves in brilliant red as I walked my dachshund Luna. The house had a turquoise wooden door and it beckoned me inside. No one answered when I called out, so I kept exploring.

I spied a small sitting area with two mugs of tea cooling on the coffee table. A tired man appeared smiling and said, “I’ve been waiting for you, Kayla. My house has chosen you as its new owner.” 

“How do you know my name?” I asked the man alarmed.

“The house told me who you were and that you would visit today. It has ancient magic and has existed in some form for thousands of years. A sourcerer created it. Remember, until the house chooses another owner, you’re its keeper. You and Luna are also gifted long life.”

Before my eyes, the man disintegrated with a sigh.

I wandered my new home finding all my possessions. The house had also taken on the appearance and decor of my ideal home.

In the back was a deck with a white sand beach and a rolling ocean shore. Luna escaped my grasp and ran out to the water. The house had fulfilled my wildest dreams. 

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http://www.pixebay.com

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Thank to the wonderful Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW. Apology for the length.

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.