Misfits- a poem

Here’s to the misfits

Who are not afraid to share their opinion, and aren’t afraid to be shunned for it

Here’s to those who stand up for others

Who give their strength to those who need it

Here’s to those who are resilient

Who don’t give up no matter how many times they fall down

Here’s to those who are too shy to do any of those things

Who may be silent, but truly care

Battered Things

Many people have offices in their houses that go unused. You can tell if they are. There is no disorder, no use or worn edges. For you see, used offices aren’t necessarily pretty ones. They have things lying out, there will be coffee stains. There are always too many tabs open up on the computer, and another stack of things to do. To some these things are imperfections, problems to eradicate. But, they are proof. They show someone is working, trying, learning. There are things lying around, so someone doesn’t forget their train of thought. There are pencil marks from when they lost themselves in writing, and coffee stains from the hours they stayed up working. We should be proud of our proof. For, what is the point of having something? What is the point of keeping something perfect to never use it. Often the most battered places are the best ones.

War Bred (just for feedback)

Humans were such glorious complex beings. But, even they could not compete with his work. Dr. Larden stared at his creation. His triumph. Years of scientific research and sheer will had created this. Still, all of his time, his efforts would be worthless if he couldn't make the council see reason. Some said his ideas were inhumane, or disgusting. Perhaps they were right. But, this was war. He didn't have to be humane.

The door behind him opened with a hiss. The member of the council who walked into his lab radiated power, radiated presence. It was no wonder he was a leader. That aura alone was enough to make people follow him.

"Welcome Mr. Argentum to my main lab" the Dr. stated

The man's gaze burned into him. After a moment, the councilman spoke.

"I have no need for pleasantries or introductions doctor. Say your piece and keep in mind that the council will be determining your worth upon the words you speak."

"Thank you sir." The doctor said hurriedly

He led Mr. Argentum toward the cryo chambers at the other side of the lab. In each cylinder chamber, a human was suspended in liquid. Cables ran across their bodies and hooked into machines.

"Humans have been fascinated by genetics since they were originally discovered. Scientists have cloned, created, and perfected many species artificially in labs." The doctor stated

"Through my work, I have created a perfect weapon. I took human DNA and made us strong where we are weak. They have increased strength, speed, and stamina. I have developed their genes to where they are immune to all life-threatening diseases and common illnesses."

Mr. Argentum stared into the cryo chamber he was standing in front of. Inside a flawless girl was suspended. She looked utterly human. Perfectly normal. The best disguise.

Finally, he spoke, "What is to stop them from destroying us? If it is true they are stronger what will keep them from wiping us out?"

"Each altered human was created in my lab. I have programmed essential skills into their DNA. They will be able to walk, talk and write. What they lack are experiences. For you see it isn't our genetics that makes us what we are. It is our memories, our childhood. Everything they never had. And never will have. It is simply human nature to rebel. But, they won't have human nature. They are also disposable; it isn’t hard to make more. Think of it. No more casualties in warfare. None that matter. They are utterly replaceable."

"How young can you take then out of those chambers? How soon can we start training them?"

"When they have reached the start of puberty they can be removed. They develop at an accelerated rate and have a non-ending lifespan."

"How is that possible?"

"I feel no need to give you the answers to immortally Mr. Argentum."

"How soon will they be ready?

 The final question, Dr. Larden could see it in the councilman's eyes.

"They already are"

The Painter

Grace slid her hand over the doll’s face. She could feel the thread that held each button to the cloth. She was old for dolls, but it was one of the few things her mother gave her. She placed her doll down and pushed herself off the ground. With her hands out in front of her, she walked forward. One two three four... She counted each step in her head. Her mother let out a pained sigh; it sounded like exasperation and walked out of the room. Her heels clicked on the tile, and annoyance rang with each clack. Grace knew her mother was ashamed of her. Her older sisters were normal. She could feel the way her mother radiated pride when they were around. She didn't receive the same love.
As she bumped into the table, she felt around. There was the pungent smell of paint in the air stronger than it was on the rug. Her entire family consisted of successful artists. Her mother was always praising her sister's work. She had asked one day if she could paint as well, but her mother had just scoffed.

"You a blind girl, paint? You can't see let alone create a picture." Her mother had sputtered.

Grace felt around the table until she found a tube of paint. She gripped the cap and turned it until it came off. She squeezed all the paint out of the tube onto the table in anger. She could hear her mother's past words ringing in her ears. She felt the cool liquid on her fingers and made patterns and shapes, painting. The world was vast and confusing, but one thing was clear. She was Grace and no matter what her mother said she could do anything.

Raindrops

Liz stared out the window at the rain droplets running in little streams down the glass pane. Her breath left the glass fogged around her tiny hands. She liked to pretend the little water beads were racing, and whichever one made it to the bottom first was the winner. The little girl liked rainy days the best. Other children hated being cooped up indoors, but it brought Liz peace. She was content to stay inside and draw or practice playing her pianoforte.

She was dragged out of her blissful thoughts by her mother’s clear lovely voice calling out to her “Elizabeth, come we will be leaving soon.”

Her mother was standing in the doorway to the sitting room. She had on a pastel yellow dress with lace gracing the neckline and the bottom of the skirt. Liz knew they had to leave the country house to return to their manor in the city, but it didn’t mean she wanted to. She scowled as she thought of the stuffy city.  Her lessons there on how to act appropriately always left her feeling cramped and held in. Here even in the brevity of their stay, she felt the heaviness leave her. Here Liz felt happier, but they couldn’t stay forever. They could never stay forever.

“Elizabeth….” Her mother’s voice trilled as she walked out of the room and into the hall.

Liz stared at the traced a stripe of water that ran down the window one last time

.

“Good-bye,” she whispered as she walked away.

The city would be bearable as long as she knew there was still a place she could feel free. 

A World of my Own

Meredith twisted one of her honey gold locks around her finger. “Meredith,” as stern voice pulled her from her reverie.

She sighed “Yes, Mother” she replied

“Quit fiddling with your hair you will mess it up, and tie your shoelace”

Her father cut in chuckling “Miriam, let her be a growing girl. Let her enjoy childhood.”

Her mother replied sputtering “I don’t see how that should be an excuse for untied shoelaces….”

Meredith’s parents were too busy arguing to notice she had gotten up to wander into the wood. Draped in the cover of the leaves the child explored the kingdom of wild things. Her feet brushing blades of soft grass as she walked.

Her parent's voices faded into the distance Meredith plunged further into the wood. She saw light burst through the trees ahead and she strode into a meadow with a vast lake. Wildflowers slid against her waist as she walked forward. Meredith heard a laugh like the tinkling of glass behind her. She turned to see a girl in the water.

The girl had long flowing hair that matched the aquamarine scales that brushed her cheeks. She smiled and dove beneath the water of the lake. It was then that Meredith noticed the other creatures in the meadow. She saw a little rabbit with antlers hopping between the tall blooms. Little people with diamond wings flew into and out of the wood. The girl from the lake burst through the water and extended a hand for Meredith, inviting her to come. She wanted to, but a voice called to her.

“Meredith” “come child it’s time to go”

The young girl opened her eyes from sleep.

Meredith’s father smiled at her and whispered, "Where did your dreams lead you?

”

Quietly she replied, “A world of my own”

Photograph

It's the moments were happy I wish I could capture. I could have an image that would bring back the memories after the darkness sinks in. However, I don't. I can't go back in time to when love was beautiful and blooming. The past is stuck unmoving in my mind. As time goes on the memories fade, or are overcast by the shadows of now. One image is all I ask for, one Polaroid picture that could convey feelings. I need one picture that could convey all our hopes and desires. I need one picture that could capture the light giddiness we felt. I need one picture that could show our love in that instant. I need only one picture to remember how we fell into a deep and unyielding war that was the most wonderful thing in the world, but also the most heartbreaking. One last picture so I remember all that I was.