Sometimes we hunger for an unknown meal.
The stirring for something substantial and nourishing;
It cripples us,
tainting our soul like a ribbon of flowing crimson.
It sends our minds whirling with malignant force,
Crumbling the corner bits of our lives.
Ignoring the minor, destructive infractions we beget.
Until, serendipity delivers our meal on unexpected platters.
The hunger, perpetually taints us,
polluting our days into months and years;
Until the hungering is buried under strained resentment.
I am Lucretia T. Knight. A writer of the heart, even though my profession is education. I am learning to spread my wings and voice with the undercurrents of literature. I hope you enjoy my writing. It has been a childhood dream that no longer is satisfied with the shadows, but now lives in the light.