Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Poets.
Clouded Minds
Shuffle, Hold, Imagine the deck. The cards you draw, you must play with next. "You play the hand your dealt" they say... But in a real game of cards, you can cheat your way but according to real life it's not ok. But then again you never draw a card with a prince. Just kings, queens, and jacks. That's what this world lacks. No, not kings ,and queens, and royalty. Just a bit of modesty, loyalty, and imagination you can really see. With technology comes a clouded mind. Children can't even imagine life outside. Me included. This world has become so deluted. No real sugar, just hugh fructose corn syrup. Depression has become societies disease; and it's the only thing I feel, is living inside me. We're numb. Living in a world with mixed emotions, yet powerful guns.
By Eric Hatcher8 years ago in Poets
Murder
You turn on your television and there you see crime scenes, autopsy reports, 48 hours of a manhunt. But no one gets to see us. You don't see me. News stations swarm us until "justice" is served, but then we are left to stay silent in our pain because it is for some very strange reason not talked about. Something many people don't understand is that homicide victims, like the warriors such as my brother Joshua, who held his hat in his hands and bowed his head to pray before he was shot multiple times to his very death, or their killers. They aren't the only ones that you all should be seeing. I am a homicide victim. The pain Joshua felt in his heart as he clung his hat to his chest has now been given to me, to each and every single one of my family members and friends who are each still suffering and surviving in our own painful way. There is no recovering from murder. There is only surviving your new life without your loved one who died in such an unexpected, horrific manner. People find murder so intriguing... until it smacks you straight in your face and kicks you in your gut, you then come to realize that murder doesn't only happen on your TV screen. It comes like a ghost in the night and it takes you away. It steals all of your happiness and it stays.
By Bre'anna Snapp8 years ago in Poets
