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.

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Maydays: Flash Fiction – Pick Up Your Toys Charlie.



Thank you to CL Kaley from new2writing for hosting May Day Prompts. Today’s prompt is teaching a lesson.
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http://www.astimeflys.ca

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“Did you pick up your toys as I asked you to?” Lyndsey said to her son Charlie. Charlie looked down at his feet and began to fidget.

“Charlie?” Lyndsey asked again lowering her voice.

Charlie examined his Mom’s serious face for signs she might let him off the hook.

“I wasn’t done playing yet.”

“Bedtime is 8:30 pm which is the reason I asked you to put your toys away.” Lyndsey said sternly.

“I don’t want to go to bed yet. And if I leave my toys out, I can play with them tomorrow and not have to get them out again.” Charlie whined.

“The problem is Charlie, your Dad and I trip over your toys and hurt ourselves when we are in the living room at night. You have to pick them up and get ready for bed or there will be consequences. They’re your toys, you’re the only one who plays with them, so it’s your job to put them away each day.”

Charlie stamped his foot. “I won’t do it .” 

Lyndsey looked at Charlie again frustrated. “You can pick up your toys now or I will put them in a big black garbage bag. You’ll have to do one chore for each toy you want to get back from the garbage bag.”

Charlie gasped, “Ok, I’ll pick them up.” Charlie began picking up his toys slowly.

After fifteen minutes Lyndsey yelled, “Enough Charlie!” She took the remaining toys from the living room where Charlie played and put them in a big black garbage bag. The garbage bag was half-full. 

Charlie was shocked.”But I was picking them up . . . ”

“Not fast enough. Go to bed Charlie. I’ll be there to read to you from Harry Potter. Make sure you brush your teeth and put on your PJs.”

Charlie trudged up the stairs to the bathroom, giving his Mom a dirty look, “What about my toys?” 

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. I’ll make a list of chores you can do to earn back your toys.” Lyndsey said.

Charlie decided to tantrum. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.