Short Stories
She always told the best stories, never rejected a request
She was truly unique, truly the best
Her stories were never written, never recorded
Her plots were intricate yet simple enough to get it
She whispered to build suspense, threw glances to suck you into the tale
Obtaining your complete attention, she would never fail
The twists in her stories were never forced
Her character development never seemed coerced
It was truly an escape to a world never seen
It was truly an escape to a world befitting the title “dream”
We were right there watching as the sky broke into pieces
We felt the bullets pass us by as her tension increases
We saw the magic distort reality
We saw the dragons fly through the sky, felt the bad guy’s insanity
We were right there, we were a part of her short stories
We dismissed the TV, had no need for the movies
For their tales had been told, and recycled and reshaped
To the point everything we saw was a simple remake
But her stories, were never based on what we knew
Her stories came from a dark place some of us simply outgrew
Her imagination, sparked our fantasy
Forced us to rethink and remodel our own life story
It was her short stories, it was the passion in her voice
It was the fact that we got to decide the heroes choice
It was more than just words told
It was a warm place in a world ever cold
It was a safe haven from a place unrelenting
It was love in the middle of destruction
It was as if she told her life, it was as if she gave it to us
It was as if her short stories, could never be enough
We craved more, for it was that which made us whole
Every time, every tale, she bared her soul
And we glanced with eyes of purity
For there is nothing in this world that can stand up to her short story
Sleep was never sweeter, dreams were never more colorful
Living up to that moment, made the rest of the day dull
Yes … she told us short stories no one ever heard
No matter the time that passes, I will remember every word
Some say she never existed, some say it was all a dream
Some say my sense of real is twisted, some say she was never seen
But I dont care, I live in a world where stories are told and sold
And she gave me something that will forever remain bold
A sense of self, a pool of imagination never running dry
She was real to us, made us feel like we could fly
Imagination was there when our parents were not
Fantasy complimented us when our parents forgot
It was her short stories, that made us who we are
For us, she will forever sleep upon a dark star
Vino
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Sometimes a story is more than a story, and words can be so much more than simple tools communication. When you cant find someone to spark you imagination, do so yourself. Create your imagination, define your own fantasy, and make the world realize that everyday is a short story that deserves to be told. Never give into the pressure of being a closed book, instead demand that your words be heard and read. Live life on the edge, for safety often dulls the senses. Be a writer of your own story and make sure you dont forget to keep the mistakes, as you write your own Short Stories.
And in case you like this story, make sure you buy my story book as well.
