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“Today is my day, I have got this!”

This proud declaration may be a result of discovering the most beautiful flower of life.  It’s right there, just waiting for you, easy pickings.   Then, as you reach to claim your prize, abruptly, a searing pain rushes into the body.   The heart begins to beat heavily, the pulse increases, the breathing becomes rapid as fear leads to bewilderment,

“What has happened?  Why am I hurting?”

Suddenly, the eyes discover the culprit, two well defined, fresh piercings now show on the forearm.  Instead of collecting the beautiful flower, one has become a victim of the quick strike serpent.   The snake has made its mark, followed by a fleeting escape. Everything happened so quickly, you didn’t even get to see the culprit, hit and run, gone.

The wound may heal, but the mental scar remains.

Now, one is left with a choice.   How much does one want the life flower?   Enough to go back and risk being bitten by the unseen viper?   Or does the memory of the previous agony remain too strong?  Maybe the mind has dreamed up the image of the unseen monster, even given the snake a face.  Perhaps the mind envisions an enormous, sadistic creature that chooses to stand guard and will never allow anyone, especially not YOU to claim the flower of life.   So, what’s it going to be?

The life flower or Fear?

We’ve all been there.  Conceivably, the bite may have come in the form of asking another out, only to be harshly rejected.  Or, it could have been the time wanting to show off one’s karaoke skills by belting out a fabulous version of “Don’t Speak” but, it turns out, there’s only one Gwen Stefani, No Doubt.   Whatever it might be, does not really matter, we all have been there.  The important thing is not the strike to the ego, but how one handles the ordeal.   Some may wish to play it safe, while others accept the possibility of failure remains a worthy risk.

There is no right answer, no choice is wrong.

The story of the life flower snake seeks to explain the true nature of this work– self-doubt.   Specifically, the challenge of putting one’s self out there.  Is the reward worth the risk?

When I first started TheDR.World, my vision was to have a forum, an outlet to express my own creative endeavors and also to encourage others.   Yours truly must admit, it came as a surprise that few opportunity takers would step up and display their uniqueness, their genius within.

To me, that’s a shame.   But sometimes, all it takes is one or two of the “right” people stepping forward.   Thus, it is my distinct pleasure to highlight such an occasion.

Not long ago, someone I know sent me a gift.   The new treasure– was a poem.  Just my view, but it is a solid, respectable poetic effort.  Furthermore, the best attribute of this particular poem (again, my opinion) is the emotions, the writer meant the words and the reader can feel it.

Unfortunately, the author did not wish to be identified by their real name, I can respect that decision and do not ask as to why.   However, please note, TheDR.World will publish almost anything creative but does believe the creator should receive the credit they are due.   Having adequately stated that belief, let me assure all, the writer is not me (Darrell).

Despite my fondness for poetry, I admit to being somewhat intimidated and have only publicly published one poem (Heartless Holiday: Not a Poem Poem).   Therefore, allow me to introduce the first effort, a work by my friend– a person known as “Deuce” Hacksaw**.

**NOTE: For many writers, poets, artists, a good pseudonym is a “just in case” must.  For the record, my chosen alternate moniker is Glee Iconoclast.

 

Ladies and Gentleman, please enjoy:

So this is what Misery Feels Like

By “Deuce” Hacksaw

So this is what misery feels like.

I never thought I’d feel the crushing weight of the world on my shoulders.

Life is pain.

We take a brief respite in the simple things every now and then.

The taste of good food, the warmth of a lover.

It all fades with time.

The taste grows stale, the warmth fades.

The joys slowly dissipate until nothing is left but the hollowness of our souls.

This is what happens when disillusionment sets in.

Love is lust.

Joy is realized desperation.

The things we take for granted are a gift.

She lays outside of arm’s reach and all you want is contact.

The distance can be measured in light years.

You’re falling deeper and deeper into the blackness every day.

Is life too short, or too long?

Never has a life line been needed more, but friends are fleeting.

Family is temporary and exists as long as their utility.

I am Sisyphus and Prometheus.

I keep pushing, but already know what the end result will be.

I spill my guts on the mountain, only for your vultures to eat me alive

until nothing is left.

Darrell Roberts :Writing is my passion, whether you agree, disagree, love, or hate the expression of my passion is not important. What is important, is that those that read my words are never bored by doing so.