Butterflies and Bullies

I sleep wide awake between

butterflies and bullies

counting sheep morphed into tribes.

With the new social of antisocial

agree is God and truth is the devil

when it survives the river of lies.

Mining hope from empty, finding

beauty in bare, I fly what could be

instead of a sky polluted with dead air.

In the If Not Now Then When,

The Gray of Blind, even a flicker of peace

can feed a spirit who faces another mountain to climb.

©Susie Clevenger 2019

Real Toads ~ What is Metamodernism

Not the Same Playground

I was the fat girl,

you know the one

with the ruddy cheeks,

crooked teeth, and

thighs in constant chafe.

Bullies, yes, there were bullies.

They brought names, stones,

and an entourage of gigglers

giddy they weren’t the target.

Oh, but I’m no longer ten,

I’ve sharpened my tongue,

and dark gleamed my eyes.

If they want to reminisce

about how the chubby girl cried,

karma may write a new story.

#NaPoWriMo2019

Real Toads ~ Poems in April ! Riddikulus!