Seven Years Of Bad Luck

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Seven Years Of Bad Luck

Seven years of bad luck
I broke the mirror
and now I’m stuck
seven years of misery
a devastating history
if I could make it up I would
but now it’s done
won’t do no good
I broke the mirror
and though it sucks
it’s seven years of bad luck.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Written for the prompt reflecting on mirrors with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. Breaking a mirror can be a problem if that’s what you believe.





Words were spoken
that can’t be taken back
that day of discovery.
Collapsing under pride
they tumbled right out
along with hard feelings
splashing into pools of deceit.

I crumble under pressure
as I struggle
for the right words.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

Published here for the first time from Picturesque Words. The quote was found in a Google image search author unknown.

Feeling Foolish


A modern interpretation of the Tarot Fool card.

Feeling Foolish

A businessman balanced on the tip
took a look and then started to slip
he just couldn’t see
he was already free
if only he’d gotten a grip!

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

A Limerick written for Saturdays Image Write and Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads.

The Harvest


The Harvest

A lone figure was watching the scene unfold
as a young deer crossed the busy highway
it was a beautiful morning.

The truck swerved and disintegrated
sending shrapnel everywhere
sparks flew from scraping metal
the driver was killed instantly.

His truck slammed into a woman’s car
she barely saw it happen-too fast to react
her windshield breaking glass flying
it was the last thing she saw as she died.

Sticky warm blood leaks, drips, and pools
the smell of gasoline was strong
cooling metal making ticking sounds
dead muscles twitching.

The car was unrecognizable
tangled with the truck
the deer mutilated and decapitated
airbags were deployed but did no good
it seemed like forever sirens in the distance
the ambulance was first but the corner was called
firemen and police were busy trying to pick up the pieces.

Death was chuckling as he watched the spirits rise from the wreck
he swings his sickle wide
gathering up the dead his job done.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written for Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads giving an example of incongruity.