20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


Ca commence maintenant


Je prends la poudre d’escampette

Lorsque ma vie semble trop bête,
Lorsque les larmes me montent aux yeux,
Lorsque tu repousses nos adieux.

Mes coups de sang, mes hautes tensions,
Pourtant te plombent de munitions,
Et mes éruptions volcaniques
Nous font fondre et nous font la nique.

Et quand j’en pleurerais de rage,
Il faut bien traverser l’orage
Jusqu’au mot qui peut nous calmer,
Mais j’ai tant de mal à aimer !

Bien trop de voyages en galère,
Trop de paroles acides, amères,
Ont parsemé mes courtes passions,
Comment croire en une rédemption ?

Le 6 Septembre 2012


Ruby is Dead (Open Book Challenge)

At 17 she packed her bags and left her sleepy town
while her daughter laid in her crib…
and all she left behind were
a kiss on the forehead and a pair
of knitted booties with a monogram – Ruby…
She took the bus to Vegas
wanting to make it big…
pretending she’d never heard the cry
when she closed the door behind her…
time slipped by like a blur and
all she had to show for the years she was away
were bruises here and there –
souvenirs from the men who made her promises…
a broken heart and a tired soul…
And like the prodigal son
she returned to her sleepy town…
to find comfort…wanting redemption –
to cradle the daughter she left behind
only to be told “Ruby is dead. She died in her sleep.”





1 Comment


With God, there’s nothing can’t be done

Impossible, though it may seem

He makes the stars shine, and the sun

With God, there’s nothing can’t be done

And no, there is not even one

Who’s so far gone, He can’t redeem

With God, there’s nothing can’t be done

Impossible, though it may seem


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