131 posts
  • pallavi4 4d


    She’d always been a sickly child
    Right from the very start
    Something was twisted inside of her
    People suspected something was wrong with her heart
    Her mother would fuss a lot
    Protectively taking care of all her needs
    With medication and doctors aplenty
    Administering her story book reads

    She’d go out to play with her friends
    And after a little while start feeling faint
    Something was twisted inside of her
    A grim picture of health she would paint
    In the evening she would be too unwell
    To sit with the family at the dinner table
    She would spend her time throwing up
    Always nauseous , forever unstable

    In no condition to attend school like the other kids
    Her mother was her entire world
    But something remained twisted inside of her
    That refused to let her be just another girl
    Her mother would feed her food and medicines
    Slowly watch her slurp the hot soup
    No matter how many drugs were given to her
    She was asked to be kept cooped

    Somehow she dragged on till she reached fifteen
    People would tell her ma how sorry they felt
    That something was twisted inside of her
    How they were sad they couldn’t be of help
    Her mother would weep, be comforted
    And then go back to attending to the sick
    People would rally around her mother
    Who tried to make her better using every trick

    And then one day after being unwell for a while
    She finally died and was at peace
    Something no longer was twisted inside of her
    Her soul at last found the much needed release
    At her funeral her mother was inconsolable
    Her father serious and heartbroken
    He’d managed to dig up her medical records
    And was left with a horrifying token

    The following week her mother was arrested
    For having kept her daughter perpetually ill
    For that something that had been twisted inside of her
    She refused to go quietly until
    She was shown how she’d fed poison slowly
    To her unsuspecting, trusting little girl
    Ruled a homicide she was thrown in jail for life
    Her nasty mind finally to the world unfurled

    A dark place is the mind of a mother who manages
    To twist something inside of her own child
    Just so that more attention can be drawn
    To herself and more sympathy derived
    Labelled a mental illness it survives
    In parents who outwardly look loving and upright
    Munchausen by proxy is a disease that takes
    The life of an innocent and naive child

    Munchausen by proxy is a mental illness in which a person acts as if an individual he or she is caring for has a physical or mental illness when the person is not really sick. Often the victim is made to look sick by the person in order to gain attention and sympathy. As a result, they do real harm to their children in order to fabricate symptoms.
    Munchausen by proxy is a serious mental condition that should be reported in order to stop the person from being a caregiver to a child who naively accepts the help thinking of it as love and affection.


    20th of October, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- Igor Morski

    #wod #refrain #mental_disease #Munchausen_by_proxy #stories_in_poems #mental_health #harm #death #scary @writersnetwork #miraquill #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 5d


    I must be dead, I think I am at the end
    Lying prostrate in a pool of blood
    The last thing I remember is falling
    Down the stairs, landing with a loud thud

    I think I’m dead, everything around me is peaceful
    While I’m lying in the middle of a crime scene
    There seems to be no one
    In the house anywhere to be seen

    I should be dead, I wonder realising
    I must’ve hit my head on the hardwood floor
    All my bones feel badly broken and
    I can’t feel one side of my face anymore

    I could be dead, I struggle to stand up
    Unable to see clearly in the dark
    Wondering is this where my soul
    On a new journey shall embark?

    I may be dead, the struggle between us
    At the top of the stairs I remember
    I recall the unfired Glock in his hand
    Recollect the fireplace and its dying embers

    I can be dead, the fight had ensued after I’d
    Talked about his cheating with my friend
    Would a shallow man’s infidelity be
    The reason for my untimely end ?

    I’m definitely dead, I painfully try and
    Take one step at a time
    I discover that his body
    Had been lying right next to mine

    I’m imagining myself dead, he seems to have no pulse
    I can feel the blood still oozing from his head
    Shockingly I know now that
    To his death he seems to have bled

    I ought to have been dead, there is no cut nor wound on me
    Although my whole body is painfully sore
    How come I’m still standing and not
    Being made to walk through heavens doors?

    I can’t be dead, the blood was his and not mine
    I could kick myself for being so naive
    He might not be but today
    The gift of rebirth I have received

    I am not dead, with his death love for me
    Has ended like a bittersweet song
    I thought love would last forever
    Evidently I was wrong


    19th of October, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- “Dark Beauty” by Paulina Siwiec

    #wod #end #onec #writersbay @writersbay #stories_in_poems #accident #death #dead #dark_humour #love_gone_sour @writersnetwork #miraquill #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 1w

    Broken Crayon

    He looked at her with lust filled, round beady eyes
    He’d lured her with a bunch of sweet sounding empty words - all lies
    Her youthfulness to him was a great allure
    Their secret this would be he had insured
    While she sat innocently looking outside the window
    Time seemed to go into a state of limbo
    He fussed about the room several things arranging
    Only his fervour remaining unchanging
    She looked at him with her naive large eyes
    Never once suspecting him of creating a disguise
    To entice her into a deceitful web so brilliantly woven
    That she couldn’t have escaped even if she’d chosen
    As she waited for him to tell her what to do
    Watching him on a beetle leaf slowly chew
    He’d arranged the sheets on the nearby bed
    The bed sheet was printed with big flowers in red
    She walked towards her table and sat down
    His hawk like gaze turned into a frown
    Wondering if she would resist if he hurled himself at her
    He wondered if it would better on the floor lined with a carpet in fur
    While he contemplated this complex riddle in his mind
    She started searching in hopes to find
    A box of broken crayons in her bag she’d left on her study table before
    While he moved quietly to lock the door
    And came to stand behind her watching her sing and draw
    Her house, her parents and him - her uncle she regularly saw
    He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her in his arms
    His familiarity in her mind raised no alarms
    She was placed on the brightly coloured bed
    He came to realise this would be easier than what he had read
    Her five year old self would never remain the same
    He’d convinced her this was all a game
    In the name of family he was about to break all bounds
    Simply by being the uncle who constantly lurked around
    Trust is a simple thread that transforms into a complex knot
    She should’ve been better than this taught
    For her parents negligence she paid a heavy price that day
    When it was all over he stubbed his cigarette in an ashtray
    As he left he waved at her playfully and said
    “Don’t tell mommy anything or I’ll lose my cred”
    Although she was confused by the strange game
    She decided to stay mum rather than repeat the same
    She wondered how she’d get better at it like he had assured her
    And bit into the chocolate he’d given while the afternoon turned into a blur


    13th of October, 2021

    Used “words” and “empty” from set A
    Used “broken crayons in my bag” from set B

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #wod #combination #rape #juvenile #abuse #child #underage #broken #crayon #broken_crayon #sad_poems #stories_in_poems @writersnetwork #miraquill #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 5w


    She was all alone one night
    Walking home solitarily
    The streets were lonesome and deserted
    The moon asleep wearily

    She sauntered home in the dark
    Frightened, frazzled and scared
    Afraid of her own shadow, she was sure
    Someone would have her ensnared

    As she was walking she felt
    Someone behind her begin to chase
    She quickened her steps into a jog
    Petrified to turn around and him face

    She could hear footsteps trailing after her
    Accelerating as she increased her pace
    She wasn’t very far away now thankfully
    From her own place

    As he closed in she felt
    A gust of wind whoosh past her ear
    She was forced to turn around
    And stand face to face with her fear

    She opened her eyes she had instinctively
    Closed to keep herself from seeing something bad
    Shivering she searched for her attacker
    Only discovering a black robe in which he had been clad

    Shaking as she picked up the black robe
    She looked around the abandoned street
    Nothing but the sound of crickets could be heard
    And the sound of her own heartbeat

    She breathed in deeply to calm herself
    And the pounding heart she could feel
    A draft twirled around her as she turned
    From her head to her cold feet

    It was as though she was being embraced
    In a passionate hug by something she couldn’t see
    She wondered if she were going crazy and said aloud
    “What the hell is happening to me !”

    The minute she was released from the tight grip
    That nearly squeezed the life out of her
    She ran to her house soaked in sweat
    Inspite of wearing a coat lined with fur

    Unsteadily she unlocked the house
    And collapsed after shutting the door
    She sat bewildered at what had happened
    Puzzled and staring at the floor

    Unable to grasp the contents of the night
    And make out what had come to pass
    Slowly after braving the shock she stood
    And poured water for herself in a glass

    All her life she would wonder if or not
    She had seen what she thought she’d seen
    The cloak hung behind her bedroom door confusing her
    A symbol of what had really been


    18th of September, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- “Late night drives in Alaska” by Hannah Kemp

    #ensnarec #ensnare #writersbay @writersbay #stories_in_poems #horror #ghost_stories #ghost #scary_poems #scary @writersnetwork #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 6w


    The dewdrops on the petals of the roses in my garden
    Every autumn bring a notion new
    I smile poignantly while cutting a few for my table
    Careful not to displace the dew

    It’s been a decade since you left
    Never having apologized for your deception
    While I unknowingly kept waiting for you
    Ecstatically admiring nature’s precipitation

    I still keep wondering even after all these years
    What made you leave without a second look
    I was so immersed in my love for you
    That I was left blindsided and completely shook

    So obsessed I was with our love affair
    That I never saw this betrayal coming
    Scared I am today of going back to the person
    I had then slowly started becoming

    I altered everything about myself to suit you
    Changed who I was on the inside
    In the hopes that you would love me more
    Choose to stand unconditionally by my side

    In an attempt to fit your vision of a partner
    I went on to become a person I couldn’t stand
    I turned myself into a doll for your convenience
    To make your self inflated image grand

    I’m ashamed of myself for having fallen
    For a snoot, a liar and a fake
    I’m still appalled I never saw this coming
    Even after having fallen in love with a rake

    So every autumn I reminisce my folly
    Suffering pain and shame that refuse to leave
    It’s been a decade and I’m still to overcome
    My grief and find the much wanted relief


    14th of September, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #wod #dewdrop #apologizec #apologize #writersbay @writersbay #stories_in_poems @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 6w


    Once, when I was young, I awoke one night
    And heard the clock in the clock tower chiming
    I realised I was covered in sweat
    And that in my ear there was a slight ringing

    In the darkness I couldn’t see a thing
    When I noticed a very faint light
    On squinting my eyes I saw
    A shadow of something strange standing by my side

    Too petrified to move or fully awaken
    I lay in my bed trying to wish it away
    I felt this unknown form kick the side of my bed
    For god’s benevolence I began to pray

    I’d read about demons in books in the past
    And knew immediately something was very wrong
    The minute I heard it’s breath near me
    I realised this thing wasn’t planning on moving on

    Not sure I was grateful for the faint light
    That let me see the demon near me
    In a fright I pulled the covers upto my neck
    Waiting and praying for it to leave me be

    It slowly moved around my bed
    Kicking the bottom of my bed regularly
    The jerks from the kicks made me squeal
    Although not a sound could be heard outwardly

    I heard it sniff something near my head
    It seemed to be pacified and then moved on
    And proceeded to walk down the stairs
    I could hear the footsteps till it was finally gone

    When the night became quiet again
    And I stopped being drenched in perspiration
    I noticed I’d wet my bed like a child
    So terror struck I’d been in this duration

    I could stop wondering why
    That demon had chosen to haunt me that night
    Why while it strayed, I couldn’t move a muscle ?
    Why I was completely frozen with fright ?

    They say that demons choose to dwell
    In the homes of the emotionally weak
    What did that then say about me
    That I was a meek terrified freak ?

    On consulting with a shaman I found out I was being
    Haunted by something that was half lion, half bear
    I think I was in a way happy on getting to know that
    I wasn’t seeing things that weren’t there

    I cleansed my room by spritzing holy water
    In the hopes of warding off the demon the next night
    I woke up again around three in the morn
    With him standing overhead in the faint light


    9th of September, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #wod #once #stories_in_poems #ghosts #demons #scary_poems #scared #haunting @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 7w


    I awoke with a scream and saw blood on my hands
    Her unmoving form was beside me and a knife was in my hands
    Startled and shaken, the knife slipped from my hands
    The situation seemed bizarre and out of my hands
    How had the knife and blood made their way into my hands?
    I stood up unsteadily , placing my weight on my hands
    And glanced around and again at my bloody hands
    In the middle of nowhere , out of place looked my bloody hands
    A rope I thankfully found placed beside her slashed hands
    I tied her legs and bound her two fragile and mangled hands
    Then dragged her to the nearby lake by her hands
    I threw her into the lake using all the strength in my hands
    I threw the knife too, flung it with my hands
    Then cleaned the blood off carefully off of my hands
    The crime scene now didn’t hold a connection to me or my hands
    I was bewildered that I had managed a murder with these artistic hands
    I walked towards the winding road looking at my hands
    Mentally I wouldn’t be able to rid the blood off of my hands
    I stumbled and fell down often weighing down on my hands
    Yet I continued walking for the sake of these very hands
    Only a brush and paint ever had been held by these hands
    Now in a mess I was thanks to the wilfulness of my hands
    Why did I have to commit a crime using these artist’s hands ?
    I looked at the light at the end of the road covering my eyes with my hands
    It became brighter till it shone from between my hands
    It was then that I woke up from my dream screaming and waving my hands
    At the source of the light trying to stop it with my hands
    I took my head into my tired and long fingered hands
    Then kept staring confused at the paleness of my innocent, bloodless hands


    2nd of September, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- “Acrylic Hands” by Elle Smallwood

    #wod #epistrophe #hands #stories_in_poems #murder #sleep #gore #knife @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 8w


    I was in the kitchen putting away the grocery
    When I heard him in come through the main door
    The sound of the heels on his shoes made me cringe
    Like everyday, as he walked on the wooden floor

    Wordlessly he bounded up the stairs
    It had been several weeks since we last spoken
    The final nail in the coffin had been when
    My favourite painting in a fit of rage he’d broken

    Everything now about him seemed to get on my nerves
    I didn’t think I could make this last much longer
    To stand his perky, overly hyper mannerisms
    I suspected he’d require someone much stronger

    I’m not sure when it happened exactly
    But I couldn’t be around him anymore
    He would chew his food noisily and make
    Gurgling noises when tea he would pour

    His lack of empathy and his sarcasm that he
    Thought made him the smartest one in the room
    Would make me want to strangle him slowly
    Painfully beat him to a pulp with my broom

    It was safe to say that I was done with him
    Only two options in front of me now lay
    Either I could grin, bear and put up with him
    Or find a way out to flee and from him get away

    I stood holding the chef’s knife from the counter
    After a while I stealthily made my way up the stairs
    We lived in the country, deep in the woods
    I was sure no one would hear a thing from there

    He was asleep upstairs quite soundly
    When I creaked open the bedroom door
    I crept inside like a seasoned thief and quietly
    Slit his throat, spilled his guts on the floor

    I stood over his unmoving form like an amazon
    Feeling relief, freedom and a sense of pride
    I’d managed to assuage my anger from the fights
    Made myself again feel alive inside

    The sight of his blood oozing made me feel
    Strangely and amusingly intrigued
    I wouldn’t have ever imagined a door mouse like me
    Would feel so elated instead of remorseful fatigue

    Someone suddenly touched my shoulder
    And I jolted from what had been a daydream
    He apologised and hugged a very nervous me
    While I sat like a unfeeling rock stifled a scream

    I’d begun to fantasise in the summer heat
    While waiting for him to go upstairs
    In my head I’d attained the awaited emancipation
    And become irritated when oblivious to reality I was caught unaware


    31st of August, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- Bloody Fingers by Dark Mood Art

    #touchedc #stories_in_poems #stories #murder #death #revenge #killing #spouse #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 8w

    Abandoned Art

    A layer of grime and dust has gathered
    And mingled in the crevices of my brush strokes
    The once bright colours have faded terribly
    That used to strong emotions once invoke

    Abandoned and forgotten I lie in a corner
    Of a forsaken and desolate house
    No longer am I the painter’s pride
    I’m dirty and filthy- my biggest grouse

    For companions I have spiders
    And dormice that keep squeaking away
    Dried and wilted flowers are kept rotting
    On a nearby rusted iron tray

    The moulding furniture that surrounds me
    Upholstered in golden baroque style
    Lies torn and in shambles just like I do
    Looking unfriendly, dark and hostile

    There was a time when my being was admired
    And celebrated and revered by all
    My deep burnished red and brown colours
    Were representative of the beautiful fall

    With the death of my owner came the abandonment
    Of the palatial house in which I resided
    A will that was unacceptable saw to it
    That my fate was already decided

    Away from the adoring public and guests
    Who would stand and stare at the adorned walls
    My life has come a full circle now that I’m
    No longer the centre of dances and balls

    What is the life of an jilted artwork like me
    We are the forgotten pages of a neglected book
    What we wouldn’t do to been seen or noticed
    Or simply to be given another look


    27th of August, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- “Staircase” by Suzanne Moxhay , James Freeman Gallery

    #abandonartc #abandoned_art #art #forgotten #jilted #sad_poems #stories_in_poems #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 8w


    Trapped in a loop I found myself
    Standing staring at a metallic door
    With golden faces etched on it
    Framed with stones that reached the floor

    I couldn’t understand why I was there
    And what this doorway was meant to be
    All I knew was that I was meant to open it
    To see what was meant for me to see

    As I reached out to touch the door knocker
    The door screeched open on its own
    My skin crawled, my throat grew parched
    I was in the middle of nowhere all alone

    As I stepped in, the door closed
    Swallowing me all at once, whole
    It was then that I realised I was here
    To surrender my body, my soul

    A flaming field with burning crop
    Came slowly into my view
    I stepped towards it as there was nowhere to run
    And a pathway down the middle opened anew

    I could feel the fire almost touch my face
    I ran as the floor was aflame
    Maybe I was being tested I thought
    Maybe this was all just an elaborate game

    Passing through the field I felt lighter
    As though I’d lost some burden on the way
    The twilight refused to budge
    It was neither night nor day

    I came to a river with a boatman and a boat
    Made in a very old and antique style
    I knew instantly this was the Styx
    And my throat immediately filled with bile

    The scenes behind me faded into nothing
    And I stepped shivering onto the boat
    I had nothing to pay to Charon
    It was a miracle that he kept us afloat

    Traversing the infernal river I found
    I’d gradually lost another layer of myself
    And when I stepped off the boat and onto land
    The shore was studded with bones and not shells

    I dug my way through the trenches ahead of me
    Became spattered with filth and grime
    I could barely see where I was headed
    For the sun refused to any longer shine

    Once out of the muddy mess I came
    To a place with strong winds and rain
    I was barely left with anything to call my own
    Only the searing and burning pain

    I fought my way against the storm
    My tears melting away in the downpour
    I begged to be released from it all
    I just couldn’t bear to stand it anymore

    It was in that stormy night that I lost myself
    Never to be found by anyone again
    The fire, water, land and air absorbed my being
    Freeing me of my earthly bounds and chains

    I lost myself and my eyes flew open
    I was drenched in sweat and breathing hard
    How had the demons found me in my sleep
    I never knew when I’d let down my guard

    It was a while before I was able again
    To go through an unknown door
    Who would believe I’d seen the doorway to hell
    And with it so much more ?


    26th of August, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner of-“Doorway to hell” by Arturas Slapsys

    I tried oh so hard to write this in 40 lines! Couldn’t and failed!! I’m so very sorry …. I couldn’t completely adhere to all the rules today . Was having so much fun writing it , only realised I’d exceeded the limit only while posting. 😞

    #cees_doors #dporway #doorway_to_hell #stories_in_poems #stories #dreams #elements #hell #hell_door #door_to_hell @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 11w


    After the war the boots were invited
    To break bread with the Earl
    They were made to eat on silverware that
    Had been polished till it shone like pearls.
    Uncomfortably they twitched while
    Seated on elegant silver chairs
    Unaware of what to do with the several
    Pieces of shining silverware .
    Realising they were uneasy the Earl asked
    The forks and plates to be removed
    And proceeded to dip hunks of bread
    In the spicy broth and soup .
    The boots ate to their hearts content
    And thanked the Earl for the meal .
    They were happy he had not embarrassed them
    By making their lack of elegance a big deal.
    “Your contribution is far too great for this to
    Be of any consequence at all,” he smiled and said
    “Your lives are far too precious than
    Any number of loaves of bread “.
    They said, “We thought why would an Earl
    Care about a couple of hired guns “
    “We are glad you’ve been so considerate
    This was a lot of fun “.


    Boots : soldiers
    Bread : food
    Silverware : cutlery

    7th of August, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- “Silverware” by Elizabeth Mayville

    Thank you so much for EC @miraquill !

    #synecdoche #wod #silver #stories_in_poems
    @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill #pallavi_editors_choice

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  • pallavi4 12w

    Sooner or later

    Sooner or later she had to wake up
    From this Snow White like slumber
    He thought to himself wondering
    If ever he could hope to rectify this blunder

    They had been fighting all evening long
    Shouting and screaming at each other
    Unafraid who could hear them outside
    Unconcerned whom they might bother

    In the heat of the moment she’d lunged at him
    And scratched his face with her nails
    He in turn pushed her towards the stairs
    Where she hit her head on the iron rails

    She slumped down and went limp
    Once he recovered from the shock he came
    To see her frail body lying in a pool of blood
    And wondered from this who exactly had gained

    Her unmoving form scared him badly
    He waited a while for her to move
    Realising she wasn’t even breathing
    He knew somehow his story he had to improve

    He knew for him there was no hope
    Nothing could save him from his fate
    If only in some way he could dispose her off
    Once in the evening it was dark and late

    So he wrapped her in a wide bed sheet
    And cleaned the blood with bleach
    Then in the dead of the night carried her out
    To make sure she would be placed out of reach

    He drove off into the night with her
    Dumped in the boot of his car
    He drove to the lake outside town
    That was comfortably safe and far

    He dragged her dead body out of the car
    And discarded her off in the lake
    Then stood there watching her drown
    Without a shred of remorse on his face

    With nerves of steel he drove back home
    Showered and got into bed
    The fact that he hadn’t taken care of the scars
    On his face never entered his head

    The next morn he was awoken by the cops
    Someone had complained about the noise
    He tried to shoo them away after telling
    Them off with grace and poise

    The scars across his face from her nails
    Never let him stand a chance
    The cops knew something was wrong
    From the very first glance

    They came back that afternoon with a warrant
    And after seeing the quiet and tranquil home
    Knew that he had something to do with his missing wife’s
    Disappearance into the unknown

    He confessed to the accidental murder
    And then the erasing of evidence later
    Meanwhile there was nothing left of the body
    In the lake because of all the gators

    Sentenced to death for the murder of his wife
    As he sat on the electric chair he wondered
    What if she had simply risen after being pushed
    He would’ve been saved from this terrible blunder


    3rd of August, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #phrasec #phrase #sooner_or_later #stories_in_poems #love_gone_sour #murder #death #accident #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 12w

    An autumn sojourn

    Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
    Never to ever meet again
    I stood contemplating as long as I could
    Caught in the mellow showers of the autumn rain

    I walked on one thinking about the other
    Admiring the burnt yellow orange trees
    The more I walked, more and more me it bothered
    Inspite of the comfort of the falling leaves

    Where did the other road lead to, I wondered
    Uncertain of my chosen present fate
    Was it opportunity or destiny I’d plundered
    I hurried watching the sky grow slate

    I began pondering about the irony of life
    And how everyday unknowingly we risk it all
    How every step is like walking the edge of a knife
    I kept contemplating with the advent of the nightfall

    I lit a fire and put up a camp
    Hoping to spend a night in the forest alone
    I heated some food and lit the lamp
    I reckoned I was still far away from any home

    Watched I was by the animals of the night
    While I lay fascinated by the eve’s fireflies
    The last thing I remember seeing in the night light
    Was a flash of teeth, a low growl and fiery eyes

    The road had led me further into the arms of wilderness
    I wished I had chosen the other road now
    I was chewed with an accelerated maliciousness
    While laying under the yellowed boughs

    The wolf had his fill and left me to die
    I tried to breathe as hard as I could
    As life flashed rapidly before my eyes
    I thought about the two roads in the yellow wood


    30th of July, 2021

    Pic credit: picture credited to its rightful owner- Knife paintings in oil by David Mensing

    “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood “ taken from the poem “the road not taken “ by Robert Frost

    Thank you @miraquill for EC !

    #wod #wood #stories_in_poems #autumn #death @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill #pallavi_editors_choice

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  • pallavi4 13w


    It was going to be a good day after all
    He thought to himself with a smile
    Finally the pleasant evening was planned
    And home was just another mile

    He parked out front and whistled a tune
    Carried a brown parcel under his arm,
    There was a spring in his step as he bounded up
    And turned off the house alarm.

    She must be asleep he thought
    For the house was like a pitch black sea—
    I must be as quiet as I can
    Her slumber is precious to me.

    He opened the present he’d bought for her
    Pleased with its size and shape,
    He handled it with great care and gentleness
    To his precise instructions it had been made.

    Placing it gently he looked for the rake
    To light the brick fireplace,
    Thought light he would a fire so warm
    No cold this night would his lady face.

    The fireplace came to life with a spark
    Grateful for the given life,
    She must feel the warmth and feel no chill
    I owe, he thought, this much to my wife.

    Placed by the lit embers lay her present
    Just like he'd planned for so long —
    He wanted the present to present itself
    Perfectly with a timed alarm.

    He moved quietly with one last look at her
    Not willing to wake her sleeping form,
    Walk he did to the car out front
    And drove soundlessly in the snow storm .

    Two minutes later, after he had left
    The house lit up like a Christmas tree,
    It boomed, it crackled and shone in the night
    And woke up the whole street.

    I did shock the life out of her, he thought
    Seeing the burning house, he grinned from ear to ear,
    She always complained I planned no surprises for her
    I hope I thrilled her with my gift this year !


    24th of July, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #homec #home #stories_in_poems #dark_humour #revenge #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 13w


    Daddy won’t let me go outside and play
    And no play clothes do I own
    So I planned to trick him one fine day
    And make some on a loan

    That night I tip toed into the governess room
    For it is she who would help me out
    If this goes sideways it is your doom
    Says she after I take this route

    We pulled down the curtains that were hung
    And she proceeded to cut out patterns
    While I stood at the door to act like a bung
    Though to see the pieces I did yearn

    Slowly she sewed them into the most
    Beautiful clothes I’d ever seen
    I finally had play clothes that I could boast
    Of that shine and sparkle and gleam

    I patted my back of having had
    Such a novel idea in my head
    Then hid my play suit away from dad
    Under the safety of my bed

    I got up the next morn all excited to be
    Ready to go out and play
    So I got dressed but after breakfast only to see
    Something that ruined my day

    The maid had discovered my play suit
    And was threatening to tell my dad
    I tried my best to act nice and cute
    I knew this was going to look very bad

    She didn’t fall for my gimmicks and
    Proceeded to march down the hall
    Like the sergeant heading a band
    While I pretended to play with my ball

    Oh what is this, my dad said to me
    Did you cut the governesses drapes
    I cannot imagine who you were trying to be
    Walking around wearing flowers and grapes

    I said, “I want to go out and play like others
    So I forced her to make me a play suit
    I cannot image why you it bothers
    If I’m willing to walk around wearing fruits”

    “It bothers me because it will later bother you my son
    There’s a reason why you’re kept inside
    With a broken leg how exactly will you run
    Or seek when others hide ? “

    I looked down at my plastered leg and frowned
    While my governess was taken for a chat
    I was still mad at the maid who’d my play suit found
    So I quietly stayed and played on the living room mat


    21st of July, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #novelc #novel #writersbay @writersbay #stories_in_poems #kids #playtime @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 14w

    Cat and mouse

    “Yours is such a long tale “
    Said the cat while talking to the door mouse
    “Yes indeed it is a long tail “, he said
    “It has been in a bed of flour
    But somehow still looks red”.

    “Red? What tale are you talking about ?”
    Said the cat gently licking its paw
    “My long tail that you were talking about,
    It has been looking rather raw”.

    “It seems to me there are a few screws
    Loose in that warped brain of yours.
    You seem to have lost your head while
    Trying to put on that pair of drawers”.

    “Pair of drawers! I was born in a drawer
    On the second floor bedroom of this house”.
    Indignantly huffed and frustrated with the cat
    Said the little but mighty door mouse.

    “Born in a drawer? Indeed you’ve lost your head
    I knew something was terribly wrong …..
    When one fine day you decided to dress up
    And appear all spruced up in a new form”.

    “What a shiny coat you have sir”, you expected me to say
    As if I’d ever let that slip out if my mouth “.
    “I do have a silky, shiny coat”, stroking his smooth stomach
    Said the flattered door mouse .

    “Silky, shiny no matter what you wear
    You will always remain a nobody here.
    They love me to bits in this house besides
    It is me you need to fear”.

    “Why would I fear you Tinkle Bell,
    You are after all such a doll.
    You are cushiony and plush and jolly
    Of white snow a huge ball”.

    “Tinkle Bell ! Tinkle Bell ! Don’t you dare
    Call me anything else but Sir “,
    “Who would have thought a little rodent
    Like you would address me as a ball of fur?”

    “I have a red tail and you are a fur ball
    Aren’t we a pair to be seen ?
    I think it is high time you start being sweet
    And for tiny things stop being so mean “.


    17th of July, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    Thank you @miraquill for EC !

    #wod #pun #stories_in_poems #funny_poems #cat #mouse #tale #story @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill #pallavi_editors_choice

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  • pallavi4 14w


    He sat alone on the bench in the park
    And wiped away a tear slowly
    He was tired of being made to feel
    Outcast, unwanted and lowly

    The other children would pick at him
    Call him names and poke fun
    “You are the child of a whore
    Stop pretending your mother’s a nun”

    His mother was a gentle creature
    Who loved him very dearly
    But was unable to bring herself to tell him
    Who towards him was meant to be fatherly

    He’s always assumed that his dad had died
    Maybe he had left when he was born
    Maybe that’s why when he asked about
    His whereabouts his mother would look forlorn

    He never told her how he was teased
    What the other kids said about her
    Whatever she was, he loved her profoundly
    All the while being treated by others like a cur

    He ambled home staring at the floor
    Unlocked the door and announced he was home
    His mother happily walked towards him
    Other than dog they were all alone

    “Did someone beat you son” she asked
    Examining his black and blue left eye
    “Why don’t you tell me what is wrong”
    Looking teary waited for his reply

    “Why can’t you tell me who he was?
    Why is he no where to be seen ?
    Am I to spend a lifetime wondering who
    My father must have been ?”

    “He was a wanderer, a philosopher
    He was the love and light of my life
    The only reason I’ve never told you about him
    Is because I was never his wife”.

    “Our love was strong but never meant to be
    A bridge that we could cross together
    He came, he stayed and then he left
    Like the restless unpredictable weather”

    “So I am exactly who they say I am
    I am a bastard, I am a fatherless child
    I am destined to be forever condemned
    Just because you let yourself be defiled”

    She slapped him hard across the face
    Then sat down and began to weep
    She could not turn the wheels of fate
    Both their wounds were far too deep

    He, ashamed of the way he had behaved
    Apologised and embraced her tight
    He vowed he would not be like his father
    No matter what he would protect her with all his might .


    16th of July, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #woundsc #wounds #stories_in_poems #writersbay @writersbay #sad_poems @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 14w


    He moved quietly around the old furniture
    Through the silent sleeping house
    The moonlight shone in and lit his way
    Other than him there was no movement, no sound

    Stumbling up the stairs he went
    Cryptic silence filled the home
    He wondered if what he was looking for
    Was with company or all alone

    He clicked open the door and entered the room
    Creeping in like a seasoned thief
    She didn't lock it today he thought to himself
    In strange mild disbelief

    Often he stumbled home late
    In a drunken disheveled state
    Today he found the bed empty
    The bed alone but neatly made

    "I free you today from bounds and promise
    From the shackles of being sane
    I will be long gone before you read this
    Away from you and the pain"

    He read the note in a state of shock
    Then slumped onto the bed
    Grateful he had enough booze in him
    To numb the pain and stupor he felt

    Come the morning, sun rays seeped in
    She was ,like she said , long gone
    Him, death found in his drunken sleep
    For him there was no dawn

    Tragic was the twist of fate and luck
    The breaking point for both the same
    She chose to flee to end the suffering
    He chose to die to forget the pain


    15th of July , 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #tragicc #tragic #entanglement #stories_in_poems #sad_poems @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 15w


    She was the daughter of a wealthy man
    And was beautiful and serene
    He on the other hand was married
    To a short tempered woman who was mean

    They’d known each other since they were children
    But had somehow lost touch on the way
    Thanks to a wrongly send text message
    Accidentally they got chatting one fine day

    They realised they a lot in common
    As they spent more and more time writing to each other
    They forgot that the world expected them
    To act like they were sister and brother

    Others would never understand so they quietly arranged
    A clandestine greeting behind closed doors
    It simply made them realise they’d fallen
    Deeply in love thus complicated things even more

    They continued to exist in halves
    As two shores that would never meet
    Two lives torn by obligations
    One without the other always incomplete

    An outsider would say how irresponsible
    They had been to let this pass
    In unison they would’ve replied
    Love is never in one’s grasp

    Neither did they stop loving each other
    Nor did their future together look bright
    This went on for years them reducing them to
    Secret meetings in the shadow of the night

    So twisted was fate in their lives that they never
    Wished to be together when that could’ve been done
    When it became impossible they were left praying
    To one day come together and stay as one


    10th of July, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #cees_greet_chall #shadow #stories_in_poems #love_poems #love_story #love @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 18w


    I was born on a summer’s eve
    In the mind of an ordinary man
    He was delighted by the thought of me
    And around me carefully designed a plan
    He decorated me with frills and fancy
    And chipped away all my rough sides
    In his brain I was next big thing
    To keep me safe he had to hide
    He nurtured me like I was a sapling
    And tweaked me slightly everyday
    And one day he decided that I was finally
    Ready to be put on display
    Proudly he carried me with him as we went
    To see his friend who would his luck change
    We bounded up the stairs to see him
    And landed in a room that looked oddly strange
    My owner kept his cool as he relayed
    Details about my shape and make
    Seeing the glint in the other man’s eyes
    A wave of doubt off himself he did shake
    The man was delighted and seemed glad
    Rejoicing, excitedly he shook his hand
    He asked him to come in a few days till then
    He told him, he would put me under a scan
    So off my owner went , entrusting me
    To the man who was to change his life
    On reaching home he could barely contain
    His joy, his elation and delight
    A few days later, he went to see his friend
    The one who had me in his care
    He knew he would get a good price for me
    He was certain his friend would be fair
    On his arrival his friend refused to see him
    He was told he was out of town
    My owner left feeling dejected till he saw
    Something that turned his dejection into a frown
    Posters of me had been put all over
    I was everywhere to be seen
    His friend had tricked him and stolen me
    And quietly fled the scene
    Who was I to call my owner?
    To whom did I really belong ?
    The person who had given birth to me
    Or the one that had sung me like a song?
    Disheartened that his ticket to a good life
    Had gone to a total waste
    Not only had he lost me, he had lost a friend
    Of the real world he’d finally had a taste
    In the next few days as I gathered momentum
    He went slowly into a depressed state
    Wondering all the while that to be a failure
    Was his destiny or his fate .


    22nd of June, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #belongc #writersbay @writersbay #stories_in_poems #idea #theft @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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