FastSaying

What if dragons breathed bubbles
and purred when they cuddled
and giggled at chivalrous knights for their troubles?

What if dragons felt soft,
having scales made of cloth,
and they moved rather slow like a brown-throated sloth?

What if dragons were shy
and did easily cry
when confronted by characters callous and sly?

What if dragons did good
but were misunderstood
so men mercilessly slew the beasts right where they stood?

What if dragons aren’t missed
because there is no list
of extinct types of quarry that now don’t exist?

Richelle E. Goodrich

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A dragon grows in leaps and bounds,
Like troubles mounting by the pound.

Its stature heightens day to day,
Imposing dread and deep dismay.

A paralyzing roar it gains
While from its snout hot fire rains.

It sees you shrink. Your fear it knows.
And by the hour the nightmare grows.

Unless you slay the dragon soon,
Your troubles may become your doom.
— Richelle E. Goodrich
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You tell me that yes, I can do it. I know.
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Las palabras nunca desaparecen, sino que hacen eco para la eternidad. Deja que tu eco suene dulce.
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When gossip starts, be deaf.
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