So apparently, the muse likes to come knocking on my door without any sorta warning or announcements of any sort. This poem came from a simple yet haunting image and also thoughts about ‘Stranger Things’ and the character ‘Eleven.’
It isn’t a poem as much as it’s a short story in the form of a poem I guess? None the less, do take a read and let me know what you think in that comments section down below.


All her life,
Through the days,
Through countless years,
All she ever heard,
Was 13 stood for misery.
Stood for ill omens,
Death and misfortune.
Her head filled with
superstitions galore.
They shushed her, hushed her,
Muttered a prayer,
Cast their eyes skyward,
Every time they heard
She was 13’s child.
They missed,
Her sparkling smile,
The twinkle in her eye,
Her refreshing innocence,
Her mischievous demeanor.
All buried away,
Ignored…cast aside,
Tight lipped, brows furrowed,
That’s all anybody sees anymore,
They bent her, broke her,
Until she fit within their lines,
And cast her future, fate
and destiny,
With looks of disdain…
Where every mistake,
Ever error, every failure,
Was because of the wretched
That cast their curses at 13’s
She’s lost,
Far beyond your reach,
Your hold.
She signed away her fate,
To being as lonely,
As she thought 13’s children,
Were meant to be.
Gone is that sparkle,
Gone is the twinkle,
Never looking, never searching,
Ceasing to believe in hope.
All because,
The heathens around her,
Disowned her, drowned her,
And branded her,
13’s misery filled,
Eternal woe.



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