A. Lee Wells Poetry

"Weeping in Winter"

I always weep at winter time
I wish that I knew why
When the snowfall starts to climb
I never have dry eyes

Several months of sadness
As the weather chills my bones
I give into the madness
Being constantly alone

As a single snowflake slides
Right beside my falling tears
The hurt I try to hide
Locked inside for all these years

Another heartbroken holiday
Prepares to come and go
It doesn't take the pain away
It only makes it grow

Please pass me by dear winter
Give my humble heart a rest
Once again you are a splinter
In the center of my chest

I wish that I could hibernate,
Fade off fast asleep
'Til then I will accept my fate
In Winter when I weep...

©️ A. Lee Wells

"Night's End"

The dormant night is fallow
As it crawls on to a close
The moonlight shining shallow
As it falls into repose

The doldrum dark is painted on
A formally blue sky
The cotton milky clouds are gone
Away from prying eyes

The stillness in the midnight air
Changes to a brawny breeze
The branches swaying here and there
On tenebrous dancing trees

The nocturnal creatures howl
At the fleeting lunar light
The gray wolf and the owl
End another lonesome night

The witching hour passed
As the dawn duly arrives
The darkness never lasts
And the sun always survives...

©️ A. Lee Wells

"Grown and Gone"

How I trembled when you first breathed
From there beside you on my knees
I looked upon your tiny self
And felt my life was full of wealth

Days went past and years did too
I watched with wonder as you grew
Ever curious and courageous
All the times we laughed contagious

Now you've gone and grown too much
We're out of sync and out of touch
No more piggy backs or horsey rides
No more seeking when you hide

No more sucking on your thumb
No butterflies when Santa comes
No orders from the kid's menu
Nor sleepovers with friends you knew

Not a poster left up on your wall
Or tons of toys strewn through the hall
No playing dress up or pretend
Why did it all have to end?

Pictures help me see the past
Fleeting moments never last
Memories wash over me
As I wait for you now patiently

My little love has grown and gone
My duckling has become a swan
I know this was always the deal
One day you'll know just how I feel

So fly away, I know you must
Take with you my heart and trust
And know that you will always be
My everything, my child to me...

©️ A. Lee Wells

"Between her Jaws"

She bellows from the mountaintop
An attempt to get the ships to stop
Her wing beats lift her in the air
She sings her sinful song from there

Her lips drip poison as she speaks
Her jagged tongue leaves holes in cheeks
She serenades the men afraid
Out in the fog the trap is laid

She swoops right in her talons sharp
Like Orpheus who plays the harp
She picks the bones of mortal men
And stores the meat inside her den

A wicked woman creature thing
Who hypnotizes as she sings
So many wrecks that she has caused
So many men between her jaws

The sweetest song they've ever heard
Half a woman half a bird
So steer clear if you pass through
Now that you know what sirens do...

©️ A. Lee Wells

This form is called a Glosa. I did it for the The 365 Poetry Prompt Challenge based on an excerpt from an Oscar Wilde poem...

"Tread lightly, she is near under the snow,
Speak gently, she can hear the daisies grow.
All her bright golden hair tarnished with rust,
She that was young and fair fallen to dust." - from Requiescat by Oscar Wilde

"Fallen to Dust"

Snow falls upon the cemetery lawn
She cannot tell whether it's dusk or dawn
Loved ones whisper prayers out into the ether
Hairline cracks form in the box beneath her
Who she was and will be an epitaph
Resting below at the end of her path
No dates or holidays to celebrate
No more impatience or having to wait
Nor worrying when or which way to go
Tread lightly, she is near under the snow

She has no qualms about the falling snow
The dirt on her palms or when the wind blows
Nor has a strong compulsion to sit up
And greet the morn with her emptied cup
Kneel soflty there as you come to her place
Dream of the days that you both could embrace
Overgrown vines wrap the gray headstones throat
They do indeed impede those lovely quotes
Infinite silence is now all she knows
Speak gently, she can hear the daisies grow

Kneel soflty again as you did yesterday
Your knees in the dirt above her decay
Flowers are laid in the shape of a heart
The top of her grave is broken apart
Lightning had struck it on one dreary morn
Destroying part of the year she was born
Now you lie roses right across the crack
As soon as they wilt you place new ones back
Tending to her grave with kindness and trust
All her bright golden hair tarnished with rust

All of the things that you wish you could say
But she cannot hear you from six feet away
Days become weeks and months turn into years
Stuck in the cycle of drowning in tears
She knew love once but the memory gone
Fluttered away like the wings of a swan
Kissing the rose that you place on her grave
Finding some solace that her soul was saved
She who had the rarest heart that would bust
She that was young and fair fallen to dust...

©️ A. Lee Wells

"Silly Jimmy"

Jimmy liked to play with fire
He loved to watch the flames
Melting is what he'd admire
Also all the burnt remains

He tried to light a cat's tail
But it ran away too fast
It ended in a bad fail
When it bit him on the ass

He attempted on a tire
But the rubber wouldn't light
Alas, unlike the fire
Jimmy wasn't very bright

He lit a Christmas tree
Set up in a public place
Leaned in close to see
Accidentally singed his face

A pyro through and through
Jimmy just wouldn't quit
He burned a wood canoe
While he was still inside of it

He had a ton of lessons
But Jimmy never learned
He stole other's possessions
Just so he could watch them burn

One day he took a ouija board
So he could see it fry
A ton of gasoline he poured
It got in both his eyes

He went to light the game
Pausing briefly for a breath
The wind blew back the flame
Silly Jimmy burned to death...

©️ A. Lee Wells

Wrapping up another lonely night 🌙...

Did this for the 365 challenge about a skeleton or skull.

"Lonely Bones"

There is a set of lonely bones
In a land lot far away
They gather dust and dirt alone
Throughout every night and day

No one knows who they belong to
No one's ever looked or tried
Everytime the lot is gone through
No one sees that someone died

Not a missing person poster
Or a certain time of death
Nor a detective getting closer
The brittle bones are all that's left

A skull that's bullet riddled
And a broken femur too
Ribs are missing from the middle
For the animals to chew

Left by themselves to rot
Someone's skeletal remains
Out there in a vacant lot
The lonely bones without a name...

©️ A. Lee Wells

Did this one for The 365 Poetry Prompt Challenge for "key"...

"A Key"

There is a girl inside a cage
Upon a well lit center stage
She dances yearning to be free
If she only had a key

There is a man who wears a chain
On his soul he bears a stain
Not truly who he wants to be
If he only had a key

There are two lovers covered in
Iron belts preventing sin
They wait together patiently
If they only had a key

There is a monster in a mask
Before the sun he cannot bask
Candlelight the only kind it sees
If it only had a key

There is a reaper rapping on
The door that's on the old man's lawn
The truth is such a tragedy
Death will never need a key...

©️ A. Lee Wells

"Flit, Flap, Flutter"

The striated swallow sings a sweet song
The nene kneels in it's nest
The lyall's wren wonders what went wrong
The parakeet puffs out it's chest

The hawk hovers on the horizon
The eagle easily soars
The broadbill's both eyes start to brighten
The raven reaps it's reward

The pigeon a pariah at parks
The canary at home with the cole
The barking owl who barely barks
The cassowaries out of control

The flamingo and it's few feet of legs
The duck dives deep for it's dinner
The ostrich has oversized eggs
The devil bird is a sinner...

©️ A. Lee Wells

Did this one for day 2 of The 365 Poetry Prompt Challenge ...

"My Amethyst Eyes"

Most of us bleed crimson
But I bleed tangerine
I'm different just a smidgen
Let me tell you what I mean
Carnelian are my calves
Both my legs are made of stones
If I cut myself in half
You'd see the citrine in my bones
My ears are aubergine
Very tasty if they're fried
There's coral in my spleen
And amethysts are both my eyes
I've obsidian for a tongue
Yes, my teeth are gems as well
There are diamonds in my lungs
It's so expensive when I yell
Now you've got what you were seeking
There's no need for you to ask
I try to avoid speaking
As my words are made of glass...

©️ A. Lee Wells

Wrote this one for a challenge on the The 365 Poetry Prompt Challenge page. Thank you The Poetry of Me MD for the invite...

"Oceanic Embrace"

What memories it must hold
The blue and briny deep
This ocean vast and old
All the secrets that it keeps

What truths does it hide
Just underneath the surface
Above an oft unruly tide
Broken waves return to perfect

What lurks there down below
Copious creatures large and small
Just beneath the undertow
Where the clawed crustaceans crawl

What sailor's tears begin to blend
With the sea one and the same
Where woeful waters never end
And their will cannot be tamed

What eerie stillness in the night
When calmness strikes the water's face
Cold mists hug the ocean tight
For a full moonlit embrace...

©️ A. Lee Wells

"An Incomplete Guide to Trick or Treat"

It comes once a year
To the delight of most
The haunting times here
For the ghouls and the ghosts

A time for the fear
A day full of fright
The hour is near
For Halloween night

The witches are waiting
And so are the clowns
To have us all shaking
In each of our towns

So many choices
Of costumes to choose
Excited kid voices
Echo through the rooms

Perhaps a pirate
Or mayhaps a mouse
An outer space pilot
Could come to your house

There's Beetljuice, Batman, Barbie, Belle
Cat Woman, Cartman, Casper as well
Darth Vader, Dracula, Demons that dance
Eleven, Elsa, Edward Scissorhands
Frankenstein, Fairies, Foxes and Fruit
Gandolf, Garfield, Goku and Groot
Harry, Hulk, Harley and Han
Indy and Igor the list could go on

They're running and knocking
And laughing and talking
At candy they're gawking
(I don't find that shocking)

A race to get sweets
And the scares are all equal
The tricks and the treats
All prepared by the people

So enjoy your night
But whatever you do
Beware of the fright
That is coming to you...

©️ A. Lee Wells 2022

"Bleeding Burgundy"

Beauty from ashes
Blue lightning flashes
The cloud in the sky starts to cry
As it passes

Hope heaven sent
Prayers proudly spent
Nobody knows where they go
Still they went

Chaos in order
Rounding the corner
Juggling knives all my life
A performer

Love's smoke inhaled
Heart is impaled
Beginning to win now the sin
Has prevailed

The sleeping awake
Prone to mistakes
Shuffle their feet in the street
As it quakes

Bells above coffins
Ring very often
Rain starts to pound on the ground
As it softens

Where to eternity
Life is absurdity
Vertical slits in the wrists
Bleeding burgundy...

©️ A. Lee Wells

"Solving the Cipher"

The code is revealed the cipher is solved
The winding mazes converge
The cosmic catalysts all have evolved
The atoms have split into thirds

The avenues all have aligned
The graves are swollen and full
The deities dote on designs
The sheep are sheared of their wool

The epitaphs written in stone
The gluttonous gorge and guzzle
The whole universe is alone
The pieces are without a puzzle

The seeker is never sought
The lonely dreamer a fool
The good fight is never fought
The lessons provided are cruel

The cipher is solved the code is revealed
The vortexes all intersect
The Pharaoh's sarcophagus suddenly seals
The kindred souls all connect...

©️ A. Lee Wells

I have three pieces published in this poetry magazine for anyone interested. Pretty good stuff for just a couple bucks 😊 ...

The Skrews Syndication, Issue 005: 2023 The Skrews Syndication, Issue 005: 2023

TW: su***de, self harm

"Stigmata"

The devil is in my closet
There's a demon in my place
His blood drips from my faucet
I cannot unsee his face

He whispers while I lie awake
His voice a stabbing pain
He trys to get my mind to break
He dwells within my brain

He wants me to hurt others
And for me to maim myself
For him to have his druthers
I would lose my mental health

I thumb my sockets dry
And taste of my own essence
Pliers on my teeth to pry
There will be no convalescence

I tear off both my ears
Open holes up for infection
I cannot help but hear
This, my own violent insurrection

I bash my broken face
Right into the counter's corners
Gushing red leaving traces
Open doors to welcome mourners

I take a hammer to my hands
Crippled fingers cannot point
Giving in to his demands
I turn the claw into my joints

Myself a mangled mess
Growing horns out from my head
This can end if I say "yes"
For me to join the blessed dead

I mount the building top
And wave my hands to make a cross
I take a step and drop
I am so sorry for my loss...

©️ A. Lee Wells

The night he came home 🎃 🔪...

Credit: original design Etsy

"Nyctophobia"

Have you heard the rattling bones
Clicking together in the night
Have you listened all alone
As they play outside your sight

Have you spied the specter's fingers
As they scrape across the wall
Have you seen their shadows linger
Leaving stains along the halls

Have you felt the vacant shove
As you tumble down the stairs
Have they pushed you from above
The wicked ones that aren't there

Have you known you're not alone
As footfalls faintly follow you
Heard the phantoms on the phone
As the beyond is calling you

Have you stayed up til the dawn
Empty whiskey glass in tow
Have you had the curtains drawn
So the spirits start the show

Have you felt the grimmest breath
Raise the hairs up on your neck
Have you smelled what reeks of death
When you step out on the deck

Have you heard them drawing near
While you're covered up in bed
Have you felt filled up with fear
As you cuddle with the dead...

©️ A. Lee Wells

I tried something a little different and wrote a short narrative. Poetry is still my passion but I thought it would be fun to branch out a little...

"Copycat"

By: A. Lee Wells

It was 2am. He found himself swinging his legs over the side of his warm, California king for his feet to meet the cold, wooden floor yet again.

At 47 years old, Henry Baum was no stranger to nature calling in the wee hours of the night. The icy, red oak sent a chill up his spine as he scoured the floor with his toes for his house shoes, slipping them over each hoof in a less than graceful maneuver. He drug his feet along the oak and into the bathroom that adjoined his master bedroom and found himself planted in front of the medicine cabinet mirror that was dimly lit by a nearby nightlight. He looked up and into his poorly lit reflection, into his own eyes. They looked like sewn on black buttons. He caught the beginnings of a smile forming as he stared at himself in the dark. Pi***ng in the pitch black takes practice, but Henry was no stranger to operating in the night. He was a well known writer after all, and what scribe worth his salt didn't keep odd hours to hone his proverbial craft?

He exited the bathroom, neglecting to wash his hands; he didn't count on anyone putting up much of a fuss about germs, given that he lived alone. He had just sat down on his comfy king and removed his slippers when he heard what sounded like rummaging in his kitchen down the hall. He sprung from his bed, ignoring the bite of the air conditioned floor, and quickly grabbed the Louisville slugger that hung above his entertainment center. It was signed by Ken Griffey Jr. but the 'Jr.' part was rubbed off because his youngest nephew, Todd had decided to use it to practice on with his Dremel set. He held the bat like he was preparing to bunt as he slowly traversed his own hallway. As he entered the kitchen, he could see the silhouette of what looked like a relatively tall figure standing in front of his kitchen sink. Henry called out "Who is that! I have a gun!" knowing full well he was armed with little more than a glorified hunk of wood.
"I mean it I've called the police!"
Even though he had forgotten his phone on his nightstand, he continued to bluff at the figure. Henry reached for the light switch and flipped it up. Just as suddenly as flourescent light bathed the room, he saw it: the silver barrel of a revolver pointed directly at his face. The gun‐wielding intruder immediately spoke. "My name is Mr. Help and I have a story for you, Mr. Baum. I'm only gonna tell it once and only to you and let me tell you...it's a doozy"

Mr. Help stood stoic with gun in hand, aimed between Henry's eyes. He was a tall and gangly man, nearly 6'4 with stringy, blonde, neck-length hair that hung almost past his serpent-like eyes. He had an obvious slouch to his stance but still towered over Henry. When he spoke with his Appalachian accent, he smiled, revealing a silver incisor and a set of surprisingly mostly straight, albeit yellowish teeth. He was a stark contrast to Henry, who was lucky to hit 5'8 on a good day, and could be considered husky at best.
"Have a seat." Mr. Help said, as he waved his right hand towards Henry's dining room table. He kept the gun firm in his left hand and still in line with Henry's cranium. Henry slowly made his way to the head of his American walnut dining table and began to sit. He thought back to all of the lonely holiday dinners served at this now oversized, unneeded slab of tree.
"Whoah now, Mr. B" said Help. "That would be my seat your sitting in!" Help spouted as he shoved Henry towards the neighboring chair. "My Daddy never let me sit at the head when I was coming up. Told me only the man of the house got that seat" Help said as he plopped down into the head honcho's chair.
Henry looked down at the revolver, still trained on him. "I have money you know. If that's the issue here, let me open my safe and we can go our separate ways." Henry tried to reason with Mr. Help.
"I don't want your fu***ng money Mr. B." Help's face grew serious. "I done told you I have a story to tell and you are the one and only who's gonna listen to it. Now, I want you to write about me. Just like you did Gein, Gacy, Ramirez, Burkowitz, Dahmer... all the greats." Help looked proud as he listed off his apparent heroes.
"You want me to write what, a book?" Henry questioned cautiously.
"You do true crime don't ya?" Help retorted.
"Well, yes but it takes time, months to write a book" Henry responded, still hoping to not upset the armed, wispy man.
"Look Mr. B. I don't have no months. The pigs is onto me. It's gonna be very soon that they nail me down and I am gonna make damn sure I get this book deal with you before all that happens. You see Mr. Baum... I'm 'The Birthday Butcher'!"

It was difficult to have one's eyes and ears open within the past 24 years and not know who 'The Birthday Butcher' was. Known to be the author of at least 14 grisly murders, 'The Birthday Butcher' was the most wanted active serial killer in the Untied States. His modus operandi involved committing a murder every 2 years and alternating between male and female victims. The murders all also religiously took place on each of the victims' 23rd birthdays. The killer would paralyze the victim's body with succinylcholine, keeping them awake but unable to move while they methodically removed all major organs in a clean and terribly efficient manner, until death. The victims all were found in very conspicuous places. Their organs were neatly placed in various birthday present bags or wrapping paper, and laid around the empty carcass that was drained of all blood, causing the skin of the victims to be milky white. The mouths of the victims were stapled into smiles and the hands were placed around a single gift box containing their own heart. The killer never leaves any discernible evidence behind, leaving authorities with little to work with. For many years now, people in the U.S. had been downplaying their own birthdays for fear of catching the attention of 'The Butcher'. The most recent killing of Shelly Anders, a college student at the local university, has investigators hopeful that they will catch this killer as ample amounts of DNA were left at the scene this go around.

"You're...you're 'The Birthday Butcher'?" Henry said with disbelief in his eyes.
"The very same" Mr. Help confidently answered. "I'm the most wanted man in America and I'm sitting right here at your table, Mr. B. This could be a major thing for both of us, you know?" Help continued "You got a beer or somethin? Talking is thirsty work" Help asked.
"Only water in this house. I haven't had an alcoholic drink since my 23rd birthday " Henry responded.
"Well, s**t. F**k it, yeah grab me a water then and no funny stuff, Mr B., I'm watching." Henry stood to make his way to the refrigerator. He opened it so that Mr. Help could see what he was doing and proceeded to grab a Fiji water bottle from the door of the fridge. Henry placed the bottle in front of Mr. Help. He grabbed it, ripping the cap off and chugging half of it down. "So I'll just give you the details of one dance partner I had and you can fill in the blanks for me on the rest" Help spewed.
"Dance partner?" questioned Henry.
"That's what I call em! All my victims. Its my little nickname for em" snorted Mr. Help.
"So you'll tell me about your first, all those years ago?" said Henry.
"Nah, I figure I'd give ya my most fresh partner. Her name was Shelly." Help began to confess. Henry knew he had heard that name on the news. He had heard about how the murder was not consistent with the other birthday killings. The skill used to remove the organs cleanly was sorely lacking, and the body hadn't been drained of blood like times before.
"Yep. I had a job working on some PTAC units in this dorm for women, and that's when I seen the birthday banner hanging on the door. I waited around for hours to catch a look at who it was. Sure enough, the birthday girl arrived to pick up some junk from her room in the afternoon, so I just watched 'til she left again. Figure I'd wait 'til she got back that night to strike. I waited until later that night in my van in the lot 'til I seen her walking to her dorm all alone. Got the chloroform, or as I call it 'holy water' and grabbed her from behind. That's what I use see, it's the holy water that let's me do my work in peace. Anyway...I knocked her ass out in seconds...I tell you that bitch was out quick!" Mr. Help began to slur his words. "Carvvved herrr up nice... just in timme to...celebrate her birtthhhday." Help finished and began to notice his vision blurring. "What theee f**k...I thought...youuu said there wasn't nooo alcohol herre" Help muttered.
"It wasn't Shelly's birthday." Henry said as he slowly rose from his secondary seat. "It was her roommate Bethany's. Shelly was only 18 years old" Henry continued.
"Mmmm what the fffuuck" Help dribbled from his lips, as he lost all feeling in his extremities and dropped the gun to the floor. Mr. Help watched helplessly as Henry walked over to a square-cut section of the red oak floor. He lifted the false wood panel and reached inside to grab his staple gun.

Epilogue...

Mr. Help couldn't feel his body. He could only watch as the ceiling went flying past as Henry dragged him down the basement stairs. He found himself pulled into a dimly lit room. He looked up at Henry in the dark. Henry's eyes looked like two sewn on black buttons. Help struggled to move or speak, but could not budge an inch except for his eyes. He scanned the room and could make out the silhouette of a short figure in the corner. He was terrified as the figure leaned forward, into the light. The light reflected off of the staples that were inhabiting the face of the young girl before him. Her face was contorted into a terrible smile. Help's eyes grew two sizes as panic filled them. "Help me" sputtered Bethany.

That look when someone offers "advice" on how you should be writing your poetry...

"Advent of Oblivion"

At the dawning of the crack of doom
The soothsayers sever their tongues
The fearsome phantoms start to loom
They've come for the helpless and young

A griffin's tail wags at a world set ablaze
It's heavy head doling out death
It's awful teeth trace the bodies displayed
To petrify them with it's breath

A bevy of swans atop a mirrored lake
Smear perfection as they descend
Aspirating fate every sip that they take
Make amends on their way to the end

A leviathan will rise again
Only the unholy it seeks
To devour all those wrapped in sin
And slowly digest them for weeks

A hapless heart tethered to string
Awakens and invites the beast
A harlot's harp begins to sing
It plays for the upcoming feast

At the advent of oblivion
The hourglass lies on it's side
Eschaton has now begun
The prideful have nowhere to hide...

©️ A. Lee Wells

"Vera Green"

Her garter hides a loaded prize
For those who get too close
The heat between her deadly thighs
Is far too hot for most

She gambles but never takes a chance
She's clocking every card
Does every R except romance
Her heart she disregards

She rides harder than the best
She moves from town to town
A dreaded viper in a dress
She shuts the saloons down

Her stare as pointed as her aim
She peers a hole through men
If they try to cheat her game
They get a count of ten

Don't blow kisses if you like your lips
Keep your head down and your eyes
The holster wrapped 'round her hips
Holds more than one suprise

Her reputation far precedes
Her arrival on the scene
Her name is all she ever needs
They call her Vera Green...

©️ A. Lee Wells
(I do not own the image below)

The kids on my block are gonna have to be brave to get their candy this year 🎃...

Taking a few days off from work and the internet to cleanse my mind and heart. I'll see you soon...

"Melatonin Memories"

I dreamt that my eyes
Had mercury inside
I dreamt when I cried
That my tears never dried

I dreamt that my heart
Wasn't heavy at all
I dreamt I was small
And could scuttle through walls

I dreamt I was a shadow
Since I was born
I dreamt I was forlorn
Just a poorly lit form

I dreamt that romance
It didn't exist
I dreamt that I missed
My chance to get kissed

I dreamt I saw where we go
When it all ends
I dreamt it depends
On the time that we spend

I dreamt that our bodies
Were made up of stars
I dreamt that we are
What we see from afar

I dreamt that my pain
Would just melt away
I dreamt of the day
It would all be okay...

©️ A. Lee Wells

"The Cricket Compromise"

There is currently a cricket
Playing music in my halls
It gets louder every minute
Noise is bouncing off the walls

I cannot put my finger
On just where this bug could be
For days the sound has lingered
And I've reached insanity

I'm stomping on my floors
With two flashlights in tow
I've locked all of my doors
This bastard bug has got to go

I've called exterminators
And plugged up both my ears
I've moved refrigerators
And I've broken down in tears

It's trying to find a mate
With its oft incessant chirp
I'd like to mate it with a weight
And flatten that nocturnal jerk

Finally I found it
In the corner of my room
I lift my fist to pound it
Time to lower down the boom

It stopped right then exactly
No more rubbing it's wings
It then looked right up at me
It spoke and said one thing

"If the song I play annoys you
and you feel it's not the best
I'll play anything you want to
If you put in a request"

I puzzled for a while
Until the moment I was ready
I raised my fist and smiled
Leaned in and said "Tom Petty"...

©️ A. Lee Wells

"Trenchant Thoughts"

The movements of the tide
Sweep the drowned debris aside
The surf will keep them all asleep
And swallow them inside

The reapers of what's sown
Find a crop that's overgrown
The soil they till will make them ill
Until the truth is shown

The wilting willow tree
Offers shade to all for free
Each passing day it fades away
It's gift was not to be

The cultists lacking clout
With squinted eyes and open mouths
Succumb to fear, it's crystal clear
They've doused themselves in doubt

The unborn anarchists
Enter this life with gilded fists
With weapons drawn and lipstick on
They give the world a kiss

We rats within the maze
Wonder back and forth for days
All the while the lab coats smile
And laugh at our malaise...

©️ A. Lee Wells

"Picture Time"

The aperture opened, his lense was awoken
By beauty that's not to be bound
Nary will notice she's trying to show us
Perfection is meant to be found

Her splendid curves set fire to nerves
And her lips are a thousand degrees
He won't be disturbed hanging on her words
From her tongue he'll get no guarantees

She may find it chic if it's her that he seeks
He'll show patience and always be kind
He may get a peek at something unique
He knows it will blow his mind

He'll sit in awe and collect his jaw
From the sidewalk, where it thrives
If he thinks he saw even a tiny flaw
He'll carve out his eyes with dull knives

It's so hard to stay several feet away
But the lense is a powerful tool
The therapists say if he can't get his way
He blacks out and starts breaking rules

If only she knew his dreams would come true
Then all of the pics would be real
Instead he is blue and coming unglued
He should force her to know how he feels

Just to come face to face for a lover's embrace
Would be all he imagined and more
To put her in her place, that temptress disgrace
And introduce her to the floor

He can't satiate this level of hate
Through her pictures that he holds dear
If love is their fate she'll appreciate
This whole new level of fear

He starts to feel ill so he pops a pill
Placing his angst aside
It's part of the deal in his life surreal
From himself he has nowhere to hide

Duality reigns in his life of pain
He can look but cannot control
His memories a stain, all that remains
Is for him to go through with his goal

He pulls the bolt action, his fatal attraction
Stares at him back though his scope
He takes a deep breath to mourn for her death
He closes his eyes and he hopes

The shutter snaps and everyone claps
Another day with her passed
Now it's home to unwrap (perfect photos perhaps)
Picture time is so fun while it lasts...

©️ A. Lee Wells