Prompt: Fragile


There once was a girl named Seraphina Rose. At her school, her name was unique compared to those. And so, Seraphina was picked on by many.

A bright and beautiful girl with lips as pure as rose. Her mind shudder as the day goes. Nights she cried and mornings she tried, but fragile still showed.

A once little girl who wore her heart on her sleeve, little did she believe her life would come to this. Burst of tears; worries and fears; her heart broken in two waiting for tomorrow. A fragile soul hoping tomorrow would be better. But the zombie life she lives still tomorrow she drives.

Prompt: Perplexed

Looking at her friend, Anne felt perplexed at the sight of her face, full of shock and horror. Asking her questions to relieve the anxiety in me, every bone in my body began to shake tremendously with the words coming out of her cold mouth.

All She could do is think, How? Why? Unanswered questions poured as she noticed her smirking, as if to hide a smile and a laughter- one of those evil laughters that are supposedly cool, but really isn’t.

Hearing and eyeing her left every trace of honesty puzzling Anne. Why did it have to be me? Why did she have to go and spill the beans to me? Speechless and perplexed she tried to move, but no aching part would let out a motion.

She walked towards Anne like it meant nothing. Her words, dark and full of laughter. Who is she? Those words spun in Anne’s head as she searched for descriptive words to satisfy it.

Her hands were full of what Anne hoped was ketchup sauce. Yes, ketchup sauce. That’s what they used to use in movies, right? The air reeked of death. Who’s, She didn’t know. Anne trembled still knowing her friend could do such a thing.

Prompt: Cheat


I have been working with daycare kids since 2012 and switched to a private school since last February. Since then, I have realized, not only high school students try to copy and cheat off one another on homework, papers, test, etc. Even 3.5-5.5 year olds try to copy off of each other’s papers!

There are two little girls- they are cousins. They have the same level of paperwork. After passing out the papers, the children sit and do their work. The teacher made it clear for them to do it on their own. She’s the lead teacher, so I say, “Ok”. As long as they try we can help them.

No matter how many times the other teacher tells them they have to be separated or tell them to separate they find their way together again. They sit together and one peaks onto the other’s paper or even ask, “Is this one right?” I think it’s cute they learning off of each other because they are cousins. One does know some of it a bit more than the other. Still, it’s not good to start a habit in copying.

I find it interesting that whenever the other teachers been around these girls always go and sit together. But when teacher goes off on vacation and it’s just me or me and a helper, they only did it once or twice to me in two weeks.

Looking at the word “Cheat”, I was thinking about these two girls. How they haven’t sat together last whole week and the week before. Week before they only did it once or twice that was it.

They aren’t the only ones. Another two girls used to sit together everyday, too. They started to separate and do their own work, rather than sit and talk and exchange answers.

I hope they keep at it because I don’t want them going to another school and get caught copying off of someone else’s work. I always tell these kids to try to do it by yourself. I won’t be following you into your other schools to help you. They just shake their heads- some understand, some I question whether they do.

Prompt: Complicated+MTS: His Last Days

Prompt: Complicated

MTS- My Trending Stories

Webster’s Dictionary defines complicated as “difficult to analyze, understand, or explain.” Life is complicated. When you’re a little kid though, life wasn’t all that complicated. All the worries and stress are at a distance as you roll down a hill laughing, run with the wind, soar like you’re flying through the sky, etc. As you grow older, reality hits you. You see more and more things clearly. You watch the ones you love suffer in pain and lose them after the storm. You question everything. You question God. Why does He take away the ones you love? So many questions lead to answers that leave more questions, which are best left unanswered. Life’s complicated. We stray from the path we used to follow- a path of hopes of tomorrow- a path of love- only to find ourselves lost in anguish and destruction. Some can turn back, others are lost for good.

My mind wanders memories of my Dad who passed away last March. Within those memories, I remember the past two years my Dad used to say he wanted to spend his last days in the forest. I wonder why for I couldn’t fathom anyone living in a forest, especially on their last days. Then I see pictures of forest, hear sounds of nature’s songs and realize maybe that’s why. The forest can be many things- adventurous, dangerous, dark, scary, etc. Among the many descriptions, the forest can also be calming and peaceful.

During my Dad’s last days, I wonder if he did visit a forest. When he had moments of sleep, did he dream of walking with God through the trails? Did he sit beside a tree and hear the birds sing? Did he feel lonely? Did he feel safe?

On his last days, I remember turning on the television. He said I could flip through the channels and so I did. Channel after channel I surfed until I found some images of flowers and nature’s beauty pictured on the screen. Dad saw it and he smiled when I told him he used to say he wanted to spend his last days in the forest. I didn’t know it was really his last days. But I’m glad it made him smile to see those.

Trying to clean my room, as always I became distracted. Throwing away papers, I found a notebook. Flipping through pages, I saw a poem, which reminded me of my Dad. I know he was the reason why I sat down and found an image of a forest. I know he was the reason behind this poem. I don’t remember writing it. I don’t remember which image I looked at while writing it. But something about the forest and Dad saying he wanted to spend his last days there moved me. Something about it made me get lost in that picture enough to write this poem. According to the date and time, I wrote this poem at midnight on January 14, 2016. You would think I would remember considering it was written this year. But I don’t. The poem itself is written in another post; however, I will add it onto this one as well.

Dear God,
oh, how I wish,
I wish to be lost in a forest.
The many shades of green
and sounds of water streams.
Birds chirp a tune,
at night, campfires fume,
a peaceful walk through its trails,
calming my awakened stress.
Forest, God bless.
Sending serenity
with an owls hoot,
night time crickets,
a morning sun
to awaken the hearts.
How do I fall out of love
with a sight like that?
A melody sung
while adventures begun.
What journeys do these high trees bring?
Where does the wind blow me?
What do the animals ring?
Is there a new beginning
somewhere deep in a forest?

*peace&God Bless*
Lisa Maria

Prompt: Apology

Sometimes I feel like it is very easy nowadays to say sorry. I wonder if when it’s being said, does the person really mean it or are they just throwing it all around.

Apology used to mean saying sorry and trying to do better. Maybe it’s me, but I feel like I’m stuck in a rerun at times when someone says sorry, yet, still keeps doing what they apologized for. Does that make sense?

My Dad was a neutral man. He never expected any apologies from anyone. If someone did bad to him, he never let it get to him. Or so it seemed. I watched him stand or sit. He’d be meditating. Sometimes he’d use his hands- shaking a finger or gesturing as if he was letting stuff out (I don’t know how to explain it).

I wish I was like that. I started thinking about it two days ago. Why can’t I be like that? He’d always say to not argue. Forgive and forget. But I was too stubborn to do that. He’d also say to tell God everything and leave it at that.

Telling God a list of things done was hard. Writing was easier. But He’s not in front of me. I can’t see him. Sometimes, telling Him it all just feels useless. Like what’s the point?

It’s like when I just talk to someone about my bad day hoping it’ll make me feel better. It helps others. But not me. It doesn’t help me. It feels useless. Useless because talking about does nothing. In the end, I’m left with all the things I told that person unchanged.

Maybe for that minute I can see it helped. Helped forget the anxiety or whatever negative feeling I was in. But when that person walks away and I’m left to stand alone facing upto the thing I dreaded before that seemed less dreadful for a minute, all the dreaded feelings comes bursting into my head and I’m filled with the negatives once again.

I never understood how talking about your feelings or thoughts help. I feel like it’s useless. But at the same time not talking will eat me up from inside. The final result isn’t any better when I’m left knowing I’m right back to where I started after the person leaves.


Prompt: Narrow- I Don’t Understand…

I really don’t understand how some classrooms have white crayons along with various different shades of blues, reds, purples, pinks, greens, browns, and yellows. They even have gray and a bronzey one. But the one color a lot of kids ask me for they don’t have…black. They may have one in there. A tiny left over one that’s hard to find among all the others piled up on there.

I can understand telling the kids to not use black too much. Some kids, if you give them the black crayon, that’s all they want. They will color all over the page with it. Nothing wrong with that. Unless you’re encouraging them to use a variety, there’s nothing wrong.

If kids are being encouraged to use a variety of colors, then where is the black? I don’t understand this. You can’t just remove black out of the pile just because some kids will use that and only that all over there page. Kids need to be encouraged by giving choices. They need to be free to decide as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else.

Maybe black stands out for some kids. How will the other colors stand out? How could you make them stand out without removing the innocent color you just made a culprit.

This is what I came up with for photo challenge on: Narrow My head formed the words Narrow Minded, which reminded me of this moment.