Sometimes I growl



When the “F” word
Is at the tip of my tongue
And I’m fighting hard
To shove it back in,
Sometimes I growl!

When the anger builds
And I’m consciously
Trying to count to ten,
Sometimes I growl.

When she knows
I’m at my limit,
But she keeps
Pressing all my buttons,
Sometimes I growl.

When frustration is
The “F” word of the day
And nothing’s going right,
Sometimes I growl.

When the walls
Of this tiny room
Feel like they’re closing in,
Sometimes I growl.

When I want to cry
But I’m tired of the tears
And just ready for a turning point,
Sometimes I growl.

When pent up desire
turns to agony

And needs an escape
Lest I burst,
Sometimes I growl.

When I’ve done all I can
And there’s nothing more
I can do,
Sometimes I growl.

Like a mama bear
Frustrated with her cubs
Who just don’t seem to understand,
Yes,  sometimes I growl.


Image source: Google images
Contents compiled: January 24 2017
Originally published: January 24 2017
Copyright © 2016 Inner Ramblings Boulevard

Picture Poetry, Poetry




The things that make
Their friendship work
Are the things that make
Their relationship amazing.

If their love dies,
She fears, so will their friendship.
If their friendship dies,
She fears, so will their love.

Withholding his love
In hopes of just being friends,
Means the foundation they built
Is beginning to crumble.

Why try to fix something
That isn’t broken?
Why try to change something
That’s perfect as it is?

She hurts to know
That what they created
Will one day be no more.
It doesn’t make sense!


Image source: Digital Art by A~I. R. B.
Contents compiled: December 31 2017
Originally published: January 2 2017
Copyright © 2016 Inner Ramblings Boulevard

Digital Art, Short Stories

Hanging on by a thread



There’s too much happening all at once
The constant chaos is getting to me
Things keep going wrong
I keep making mistakes
I’m mentally tired
Im physically drained.
I’ve been working nonstop,  no day off.
I’m at the end of my rope.
This isn’t what I expected.
I didn’t come here to struggle like this.
There has to be a tipping point.
Don’t know how much more of this I can take.


Image source: Google images
Contents compiled: March 14 2017
Originally published: March 16 2017
Copyright © 2016 Inner Ramblings Boulevard

Short Stories

Faking it



They want me to pretend that all is well.
They want me to put on a show.
They don’t want to hear the truth.
They want me to earn my paycheck by telling lies.

I can’t sell something I don’t believe in.
I can’t fake my enthusiasm.
I can’t keep up this act for much longer.
I’m convinced I’m in the wrong profession.
It’s definitely time to move on.


Image source: Google images
Contents compiled: March 15 2015
Originally published: March 15 2015
Copyright © 2016 Inner Ramblings Boulevard

Poetry, Short Stories

The price of freedom



She walks in silence.
The air is crisp as the sun is yet to rise.
The warmth will come as the Golden rays
Slowly find their place in the sky
But she can’t wait to see the splendor
For her time clock awaits her fingerprint.

She inhales one final breath of freedom
As the code unlocks the front door.
The chaos engulfs her
Before she has a chance to greet the early birds.
Good mornings and pleasantries, 
goodbyes and resignation
to one’s own secret chamber.

The door closes as if to entrap not secure.
No freedom will be found until
she leaves for the day.
Why return to a place void of appreciation?
Because she knows she’s one step closer
to eventually breaking free forever.


Image source: Google images
Contents compiled: March 1 2017
Originally published: March 1 2017
Copyright © 2016 Inner Ramblings Boulevard