I’ve honestly have only watched the first episode of Stranger Things. but your poem stands powerfully on its own. The imagery is so vivid and eerie, it feels like a story in itself.

Wow this is dark. I remember the show. Nicely written.

What! Of course you should’ve been made! All of my bad luck, you are my salvation!
You don’t write “dark” much. But obviously you can when it hits ya. The plethora of details within the write make it full, like a bag of candy when trick or treating. (That black cat I saw a few weeks ago was right outside my front door this evening!).
Haunting write, my Morticia,LOL.

Hahahaha. There’s your word plethora!! You crack me up up.
Me a good luck charm? I feel a pandora charm coming on hehehehe
And you can’t take it back. I’m still your salvation but you have to take me shopping for girl stuff!
Thank you lover !!

Powerfully penned, Adel. Excellent write my friend, this one has darker tones. I dig it. Appreciate you.

Damian

Hey there amigo. It’s the month of Halloween!
Now is the time for darker writes:)
I’m going to indulge in my dark side for a minute. lol

Thanks for the snaps on this write!

Hi Chris, such an honest write. Mornings can be and are the often the most difficult part of the day for some. I hear you. Moved by your words and the struggle I felt contained within. The title says it all.

The other Chris

This is quite a good poem. It’s thought inducing, but not overly manic like some. I really like it.
Well done.

This is really good, felt a little sad reading it but that shows it’s good.

Mornings are hardest, I think. Just placing both feet on the floor is a victory. That first cup of coffee does more for me than I can say. We’re all in this thing called life, together. Thankfully, this venue offers us a human connection. Hang in there, Chris!

lol, My nightmare book report was Silas Marner. I remember those days of summer that were stolen from us.

Oh, thank God! For a moment I thought this would be some dry learned lecture, then the first verse got me chuckling. When Ishmael asked the others to call him, I just howled and my wife came back here and asked me what was wrong. I told her, “I’ll just have to read this to you.” So I did, and we both roared with laughter all the way through. Thank you so much for this one, Jake. We really needed that. You have any more like this? I can go put on the popcorn!

Cleverly penned, Jacob. Amazing write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

I feel the muse here is the dead one for eight years now.
Painful loss…she is no longer inside him. Either she forced him into the drugs or he forced her out because of them.
I think your poetry screams about the underside of life…the side many may not want to see because it mirrors them.
The unwanted sides.
This is really good, FD.
j.