Who We’re Meant To Be
Nameless Dreams
If the wings of an angel
Could span the spaces between
Blending me onto the pages
Like a song stuck in my teeth
A painting still drying
While the image continually changed
Slowly faded and dying
As the will becomes aged
My fingers grasp at it
As it slips through my hands
A phantom criminal committing
The crimes revealing who I am
I shake off the feelings
As tears rolls off my cheek
Emotions on repeat
Reserved for the meek
Part of me is missing
Part of me has already died
While I’m off reminiscing
The angels gather to cry
About the Creator
Kelli Sheckler-Amsden
Telling stories my heart needs to tell <3 life is a journey, not a competition
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More stories from Kelli Sheckler-Amsden and writers in Poets and other communities.
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There is always a moment — small, quiet, almost forgettable — when the spark stops being a warning and becomes a state. It never looks like a turning point from the outside. It’s not a dramatic shift. It’s not a cinematic beat. It’s a subtle internal click, a recalibration so slight that only someone who has lived this cycle as many times as I have would recognize it.
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I think I figured out why I love Wild Card Weekend so much. It's because it's the first playoff anything of the calendar year. The NFL season starts in the fall, and once upon a time, the champion was crowned either on or slightly before New Year's. The evolution of the NFL schedule has resulted in the playoffs starting just into the New Year, and currently, the final week of the season falls on the first weekend of the New Year, with Wild Card Weekend coming a week after that. So yes, chronologically, the NFL's Wild Card Weekend serves as the first playoff anything of the calendar year.
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Comments (7)
Let's your emotions flow.
"a song stuck in my teeth" - I love that line!
So sad....I must be an angel about now.
Wow. Absolutely gorgeous.
Beautifully written.
Gosh this was so poignant. Loved it so much!
"A phantom of criminal commits" this Will chase me today :)