more.bad.poetry

where awkward private thoughts become public knowledge.

Storm

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Hard came the rains; rumbling thunder overhead shook the house.

The glass in the windows shook menacingly and threatened to shatter and scatter onto the dark floor.

Clouds colored dusky gray blocked out the once visible scattering of stars. Not even the moon, powered by sunlight, could shine through.

As the storm continued the roof sagged under the weight of the water and then shook violently. Creak, shake, creak, shake.

Hours passed with the house swaying in the storm; attacked on all fronts by an invisible enemy. A surprise attack on an unfortified structure.

But then more hours passed, and the thunder gave way to grumpy rumblings. The rain became lazy and slow. The dark clouds were pinpointed with glimpses of a shining night sky; you could just make out the outline and faint glow of the moon.

The storm subsided, finally, and the house stood proudly in triumph. Windows can be replaced, the roof built stronger.

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Author: hairlikehoney

A girl. With thoughts. That are weird. And random. Who can be bribed with bacon cheese fries. Who figured out how to bleed bad thoughts onto a page and then let them go.

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