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Brittle Scribble Dying Dribble


Brittle, Brittle, little scribble.

Cookies, crumbs and a child's thumb.

Big pots, small lots.

Dancing tigers, spinning chairs.

Crawling, chewing, emotions spewing.

Broken anger, dazed stairs.

Wild, frizzing, mouths fizzing, room dizzy.

White gowns,white shoes.

Long days, small rooms,dull food.

Brittle, Brittle, little scribble.

Climbing,fighting, walking tall.

Broken from the stall.

Feeling, breathing, gasping air.

Find a hand, hold a pair.

Eating,living, feeling young.

Sirens screaming, ears are stung.

Counting,yelling, time has come.

Brittle, Brittle, little scribble.

Caught, handled, battle lost.

Not worth the cost, head hung.

Wishing, dreaming, of being young.

Man has won, war is done,bird has sung.

Brittle, Brittle, little scribble.

Sit, cripple, die with the dribble.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I love writing and have since I was young. My inspiration to be a great writer however, came from a Missouri state school of journalism graduate that taught me that writing is more than words on a paper, its a portal to the soul.Which I try to remember when I write.

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