Writer’s Quote: Innocence

Writer’s Quote: Innocence

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This week’s theme for writer’s quote is innocence which for me is synonymous with children. I remember coming back from school as a kid, and eagerly awaiting 4pm which is when the cartoons start rolling on the TV. I wasn’t a big fan of Winnie the Pooh back then, but looking back, I realise there’s so much wisdom in that cartoon. The character’s showcase diversity and at the same time create a hidden awareness to mental health, while still retaining the innocence associated with childhood. A.A.Milne did an amazing job in writing Winnie-the-pooh.

The above quote reminds me of two people- Joy, who gives us a weekly dose of inspiring quotes here on WordPress which more often than not, contain a Winnie the Pooh quote. And a friend of mine, Leila, who is my partner in crime when it comes to things like food.

It’s an amazing feeling, when even reading a few words, bring back memories of a time, place and people. I guess that’s the power of words. No matter how few or insignificant they may seem, to someone, somewhere, it may their first reason to smile that day.
Here’s to writing even on the days we don’t feel like we can.

This post is in response to Writers Quote Wednesday Writng Challenge hosted by SilverThreading and RonovanWrites. 

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She Was; She is-

She Was; She is-

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She was a dreamer, a screamer;
A liver, a lover;
Naive in a bubble;
Steam off a cooker-
She was a smart ass, a talker;
A singer, a fighter;    
A cryer, dramatic;
Rude and annoying-
She was a little girl with siblings;
In trouble, too often;
Funny and loving;
Through childhood, always running.

She was a dreamer, with less voice;
A liver, not loving;
Innocence now fading;
An ice she’s becoming-
She was a smart ass, deluded
With dreams, lightly rooted;
Religion, a burden;
A flower, not blooming.

She is a dreamer, a liver;
On water, a surfer;
Surviving the high waves;
Atop all the rocking-
She is a smart ass, a talker;
A fighter, with calm words;
Religion, her solace;
A flower, now blooming;
A little girl, who’s made it.

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly writing challenge: “Ice, Water, Steam.”

And Nobody knew…

And Nobody knew…

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This is a story
I have never told;
There was a little girl,
She was eight years old;
Alone in the backyard,
Acting a play or so;
Unaware of the stalker,
Hiding in plain clothes.

And he came;
And she smiled;
And he asked-
“Can I help you find?”
Innocent,
And naive-
She replied,
“I need broken shards”

And the next,
Thing she knew-
He had forced her
To the grove;
And his tongue
Down her throat,
The little girl helpless
On her own.

But her Lord-
Oh, he never fails;
Sent her sister
to her aid;
Sister came-
Stalker was gone;
Sister never knew-
What happened along.

Little girl,
felt relieved;
Didn’t understand
What stalker did.
But the lady,
Little girl grew into-
Distraught by memories of,
The boy in the grove.

Be Wary Of The Stale-Hearted

Be Wary Of The Stale-Hearted

It’s not about being afraid,
Anymore-
That ship has long sailed;
It’s more about being cautious,
Of this world-
And the hearts now gone stale.

I remember being one,
Of the gals-
Innocent and naive;
It took me up by storm,
Whirlwind love-
The ultimate price, my heart paid.

I’m not broken, maybe bent;
A little wiser, maybe fierce;
But i’ve learned, do not mess-
With the stale hearted men;
They’re too broken,
To Be mend.

Hold your hearts, dear innocents-
You’re too precious to be messed