Writing Prompt: The Perfect Day

The gentle spring breeze stroked my cheeks, blowing a sweet fragrant whisp of blooming apple trees. If there was a perfect day that had ever existed or ever would come into existence, this would most certainly be its rival.

Everything was perfect. The perfect job, the perfect house, the perfect man.

It was only logical that of all days, this had to be the one. This had to be the day I died.


Flowing through life,
Continuing down the same old path,
Desperately waiting to reach the promised sea;

Trying to find a better way,
I look to the sky;
Lift me up above it all,
Far away from pain;
But it does not last long
Before I fell from that dream;

It seemed all was lost,
Until I realized
I am in a new stream,
One that flows not to the chaotic crowed oceans,
But a small oasis to call my own.