Best Short End Of The Stick Poems

My life has been adventurous and very far from mundane,
Though at times I've held the short end of the stick, to my disdain.
If there was...

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The sins of our fathers cast such long and unremorseful shadows
   Leaving in its quake such a painful sting as only God would...

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When you’re at a sporting venue,
You should have someone to root for;
And it’s necessary, also, to have
Somebody to hoot for.

An opponent you can root against
Makes...

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Here's a story about a Leprechaun
But it's not exactly what you think
For this one was over seven foot tall
Til one day when he started to...

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INIQUITY

The absence of moral or spiritual values afflict
we detest them when at the short end of the stick
life is unfair—we are reminded—the reply quick
	
Afraid we...

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God, can I ask you a question? 
I know you give the hardest challenges to the ones you think can get through it. 
But why...

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IF THE CALL THE BITTERSWEET IT WOULD DIE IN DEFEAT.

CHANGES ARISE UPON ME WHERE AM I SUPPOSED TO GO ON THIS JOURNEY.

FEARFUL AND EXCITED AT...

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"You are fixing to walk the same road I have little
girl ,"she said to me".He loves me", I stupidly and
hopefully answered back.I don't even want...

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Here I am a mess of emotions
Afraid to let them out
I don’t want to feel out of control
Yet I am not sure that there is...

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When there is rain, it can create a powerful waterfall. As much, when there is faith, it can create a powerful prayer. We ask God...

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OK, here's the take. Actually it was a steal. My roommate took my stash. I need to hash it out. Yet, it a deal already...

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In "Braiding Sweetgrass"
Robin Wall Kimmerer
favorably contrasts Skywoman's creation story 
with Eve's less abundant vocation.

In our shared Right hemisphere,
Skywoman "created a garden
for the wellbeing of all."
While...

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I was here when television wasn’t…
Movies in color were still a new thing
Cars were mostly black

I was here when jet planes weren’t…
Telephones were bulky and...

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SHORTEST     DAY    TRICKERY


Again  December 23 is almost here 
Frost’s darkest evening of the year,
Ok.  But what...

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i want to write a poem for the women on brown street, 
the ones who work at the diner i go to every sunday with...

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