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Broken Record

My brother’s like a broken record.  He tells me about how we used to bike around the neighborhood pretending we were race car drivers, and how we’d gained multiple knee scrapes from turning the curb too fast. He’ll tell me this story twice, thrice, or even four times in a row, and laugh about the good ol’ days. I laugh with him, because though he doesn’t remember that he’s already told me this story for the fourth time in a row, he does remember the fun we had. My brother’s like a broken record, but I don’t mind one bit.

Unwritten Visions

In my mind’s eye

I see the awesome battle

Between the heroine and her foe.

She defeats the villain

With her magical powers

And her magical bow.


In my mind’s eye

I see her again

Walking through an ancient tower

Trying to find the Lost Gem

Of Gorgorem

Which is said to hold great power.


In my mind’s eye

She meets a fairy

Who, with the gem, forges her new weapon

And trains her to shoot arrows with her magical bow

And gives her pyrokinesis lessons.


I see it all so clearly,

Like movie playing before me,

And rush to my computer to write.

But as I type, delete, retype, and delete

The online document remains completely white.


At night, in my bed,

The visions dance in my head

Wonderful scene after wonderful scene.

But the visions in my head

Now give me dread,

For they seem to lack plot and theme.

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