.jpg "Flickr Creative Commons - Theresa Thompson")
Have you ever played the game two truths and a lie? This week, write a poem inspired by that game in which you tell two things about yourself that are true and one that is made up. If you really feel daring, share your poems with us in the comments below. Think we can find the lie?
I've seen my own end, the next day begins, I'm looking past the crying, a black bird flying overhead, rain under passing cars going bye, the memory of life's learnings, my long winters coat covering me, i 'm feeling the flowers you placed near pushing through the cotton, its pockets torn away strands glide high above in the blackbirds hands, he finds in that pocket what took me months to see written in ink now melting under springs rain. I now see crossing over that I'd been blind, till then, not knowing in life what I should be doing or telling, sitting there I had been crying over nothing more than the return of my dog this spring. Often times, I just sat here waiting for the world to renew and for when the lonely end passes, there I found no other reason to being here, god had willed it, all along I had hoped to avoid it if a new day was going to be important, but up until then, it was only the rain that had written upon me constantly gardening, only as recent as my only dog's death last December.
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