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A story trusted the wherewithal reminder Did you ever stop to think- sometimes you don’t realize until you look around and ask yourself, what can I do to make things better? She sighed. One night She found it hard The future
A story trusted the wherewithal reminder Did you ever stop to think- sometimes you don’t realize until you look around and ask yourself, what can I do to make things better? She sighed. One night She found it hard The future
but not the way it felt to be beneath a blanket of stars. beneath a blanket of stars.
come here way past aged by grief, a hard edge taken advantage of Or fooled charmed by anyone. The grip of just anyone.
-every small effort would fall short. she feared missing something. a bit shabby and worn.
the grief seemed so real so fresh her gaze sad and solemn eyes. decided to stay instead of traveling the world. had the opportunity to ake better lives
No one would dare to be the one to suggest should not have hurt.
scars round and symmetrical. they were from burns smoldering rage surged inside her,
Unbidden. lethal hate like a hurricane all-consuming rage the hollow echo of limited success
her heart, her happiness. her seclusion, her placid, secluded world. awakened in her a restlessness, some essential comonent was missing there didn’t seem to be a thing she could do to stop it.
enough, no more curious pitying stares of strangers. she’d run She’d have just one chance And in the meantime, she prayed
blew away blame getting behind considered standing to see A murmur the effect of done
She raised her imposing figure all over the world to say home merely was around
spreading spokes in every direction inquiring mind soon to be open formidable. a cross between bright-eyed big dreams and character
keep reason hope unfettered by convention compete to be heard.
A story trusted the wherewithal reminder Did you ever stop to think- sometimes you don’t realize until you look around and ask yourself, what can I do to make things better? She sighed. One night She found it hard The future
A story trusted the wherewithal reminder Did you ever stop to think- sometimes you don’t realize until you look around and ask yourself, what can I do to make things better? She sighed. One night She found it hard The future
but not the way it felt to be beneath a blanket of stars. beneath a blanket of stars.
come here way past aged by grief, a hard edge taken advantage of Or fooled charmed by anyone. The grip of just anyone.
-every small effort would fall short. she feared missing something. a bit shabby and worn.
the grief seemed so real so fresh her gaze sad and solemn eyes. decided to stay instead of traveling the world. had the opportunity to ake better lives
No one would dare to be the one to suggest should not have hurt.
scars round and symmetrical. they were from burns smoldering rage surged inside her,
Unbidden. lethal hate like a hurricane all-consuming rage the hollow echo of limited success
her heart, her happiness. her seclusion, her placid, secluded world. awakened in her a restlessness, some essential comonent was missing there didn’t seem to be a thing she could do to stop it.
enough, no more curious pitying stares of strangers. she’d run She’d have just one chance And in the meantime, she prayed
blew away blame getting behind considered standing to see A murmur the effect of done
She raised her imposing figure all over the world to say home merely was around
spreading spokes in every direction inquiring mind soon to be open formidable. a cross between bright-eyed big dreams and character
keep reason hope unfettered by convention compete to be heard.

A Story

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There’s only one of these in existence and I can never create it again. Bid wisely on “A Story,” by Taylor Elizabeth Rose.

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This is the original set of blackout poems that were combined to create “A Story.” There is and only ever will be ONE to ever exist. Bid wisely.

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