The Shuffled Pack

We came together when by youth we were led
and loved to play and had no tear to shed.
There was too much joy in my head
and now the pack is but dead.

We grew up together with everything shared:
plates, rooms and on a poor, cold night: our beds.
Often seen breaking rules, we all did carefully tread
and now the pack is but dead.

One fine day our paths did separate in each stead.
Few moved away, for they had to earn their bread
each to their passion and promises were wed
and now the pack is but dead.

For the day we all may meet, my conscience does dread.
As we will look into each other’s eyes unrecognised. Instead,
we shall all walk away with heavy hearts made of lead
and in our hearts, there will be no memory: not a shred

The dogs are alive and lead their detached lives well-bred
but now the pack is but dead.

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yinglan. Thank you Yinglan!

Melancholic. A piece of my mind for the friends with whom I am no longer in peace.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers Week (July 5 – July 11, 2016) – 161 words.

For my other Flash Fiction Entries, visit

For other Flash Fiction entries for this photo prompt, visit

For other prompts

Published by


Jack of many trades, master of none

11 thoughts on “The Shuffled Pack”

Just type :)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.