The Gift of Labor
Seed; She starts as small as a seed. Tiny and weak, almost irrelevant. Something incapable of changing the world. But the seed knew best. Her wonders of future fueled her present. She called it 'potential'.
Soil; She starts off as dirty as a soil. A seed only knows she can change the world, but the soil does it. The seed laid and planted herself in the depths of the soil, and so, they helped each other. She called it 'passion'.
Water and Carbon Dioxide; the best of the partners. A soil and a seed can live and be still, the magic wouldn't happen. She pours out the water and gives off the carbon dioxide for a change. And the sprout, from a seed, grew! She called it 'perseverance'and 'hardwork'.
Sun; But the soil becomes dark at times. The seed needed to see darkness, before light crept. And so, the sun shone and heated the frail stems of the sprout. It grow even more beautifully. She called it 'hope'.
And everything the world gave, grew a plant. A plant that came from a random seed, becoming everything from being nothing. People ate the fruit from the plant.
And everyone that ate the fruit had happiness. The urge to plant another seed and let it grow as beautiful as it did. She called it 'success'.
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The Passionate Corpse
PoetryCorpses are gross, dirty and foul-smelling. At times, they're scary to look at. But curiousity enthralls upon something unpleasant. Amidst the ugliness, it satisfies the dark part of our soul-not meant to be human. Something about it is unnatural...
