Under your skin
you’re kindling dreams.
Letting just enough
hope gleam through the ash.
Your head says,
“You can’t.
It won’t be,”
But the kindling dreams
wonder,
“Why
not
me?”
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Shawn L. Bird 
I lived through thirty years of “Not me. Can’t be”. My angel changed a lot of that, and when she left us, it was all up to me. I’m doing my darnedest to live the dream.
Good for you.
You’re the only one who can.
Turn the heat up and go for it all! Thanks Shawn 🙂
My pleasure.
Awesome!
Thank you
You’re welcome 🙂
My Dreams even when pushed to the side, ignored, and sidelined forever keep knocking on the door and arise from the ashes of neglect prompting me to try again.
That’s what the best of them do.
I love this. Wow.
Thank you.
I’m glad it speaks to you.
Your poetry has such warmth that it brings you to it even in th beginning but as you your reader reads further it bursts into a wonderful roaring fire. It’s almost as if you begin your poems with a little bit of fat lighter.
lol
Well, the goal (as I explain to my students) is to lull the reader into a comfortable place and then punch them in the gut.
And of course, you can’t do that EVERY time or they know it’s coming.
It’s a little bit like Charlie Brown, Lucy, and that football.
Interesting Mrs. Bird….
Thanks, Chris.
Reblogged this on Gemini's Lament.
This should be pinned on an insecure writer’s vision board! 🙂
Thanks, Vee.