All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
To Crawl In Sin
I particularly love poems about dark and scandalous things
things that you don’t reach in and pull out of the shadows
A man spinning his wedding ring around his trembling finger
A strong ache in his chest, sitting at the counter at their favorite diner.
A teacher out after hours, hiding in the darkness of his daughters
home, dreaming of a life he could of had with her if he hadn’t given up.
I read these and I am completely drenched with curiosity.
give me a sappy happy ending and I wouldn’t believe you
But what I do believe in is in the ruin.
When the girl with the curves, her head down and her hand
holding the other, gets it into her head that no man will ever hold her.
When his want for his ex fiancé drives him to kneel in the rain and scream out for her,
tears running down his face, spit shooting out of his mouth,
“Baby come home!”
She washes the dishes with fear and a yellowing bruise on her face,
She prays that those dishes shine so he doesn’t dig his knuckles in her face again.
These things I don’t enjoy, but I love reading about them
Because it motivates me to help the people in the midst of ruin;
when she lifts up her head and sees the love of her life
holding her best friend, him whispering to her how much he loves her
nothing hurts so bad then to crawl in sin and not end up with what you want.
There is beauty in even the dirtiest scandal,
That night she stared numbly at the gun in front of her,
Knowing that with one muscle movement all could be lost,
The night she will never speak a word of.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 5 comments.
14 articles 0 photos 20 comments
Favorite Quote:
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.