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Jennifer Dyann Nov 2010
Consumed by a fire
That burns for every single breath
Every single beat
Of every heart
Fending off death

Not the death by an accident
A ******
One's age
Death by suicide
Walking into the Devil's cage

You think everything's fine
When in reality you're dying
What you need is to quit shying
Away from the one who's been prying

Into your heart
The depths of your being
Only to save you
From the death that's been clinging

Each act cleverly placed
Your motivation erased
So that you would stop the chase
And fall flat on your face

But you make sure
That you land on your knees
Right at the feet
Of the one who set you free
Jennifer Dyann Aug 2010
An overwhelming sense of bewilderment.
My eyes are masked with the lies.
The hurt,
The betrayal,
Again, I have to become this person
All the anguish left in disguise.

My views so utterly coiled.
I try to smile,
I attempt to forget,
But this pit of a wound continues to boil.

Battered and bruised,
My heart has become.
The verbal beating,
The memories constantly repeating,
A never-ending rerun.
Still working on this one, check for new additions.
Jennifer Dyann Aug 2010
So many decisions

So many actions

We don't take the time to look

Realize the impact

A tear, a smile, a laugh

The heartache

A heart-break

The pain

Embrace the power


We try to set the pace

Don't let the rage overcome what life you destine to lead

It only takes so much

So little

Such a large impact

We find ourselves mute to the outside world

Becoming blind, not seeing whom we are affecting

Becoming deaf, not caring to listen to anybody besides ourselves

You may bring out a smile from the one who does not speak, walking down the hall; head down, hoping nobody can see their hidden colors

You may bring out a laugh from the one who keeps their cool, serious, lacks a noticeable humor

You may bring out a heavy flow or hurt and tears from the one who speaks with such kindness, carries themselves with grace, lives life, and is always seen with a grin across their face

You may bring out a glare of hate from the one who tries to get by, friends with everyone, and sits aside not having a voice

Such an antique of a moral

"Treat others as you would like to be treated"

Yet such a meaningful and consequential impact

If only every person lived abiding by this

Our would is overflowed with the concept that we don't need to think about anyone other than ourselves



Right and wrong

Everything is affective

Either you make someone very joyful and contented


You have weakened the spirit of another

The decision

Held in the palm or your hand

Find it deep inside yourself

Make the right one

We are all equal


It may be we are one

But each individual plays their own part

Every one of us responsible


The impact
Jennifer Dyann Aug 2010
I sing about what makes me happy
And what makes me stronger.
The fear inside has disappeared
It lies within me no longer.

I sing about how blessed I am
Each and every day.
I sing about the life I’ve been granted,
My Lord, by my side, to stay.

I sing about all the thanks
My God deserves to hear.
I sing about what He’s given to me
All of my eighteen years.

I sing about the strength and love
That has been so graciously provided.
I sing throughout my darkest times
Because I’ve been so graciously guided.

I sing about accomplishment
And what I’ve overcame
I sing about my passion
And pray in Jesus’ name.

I sing about things that will get me through
The day and push me further along.
I sing about my motivation
And how I’m still standing strong.

I sing to glorify Him
With every ounce of strength.
I could sing for hours on end,
There’s no limit to the length.

I sing for a mighty breakthrough
And a revelation.
I sing to see the walls fall down
Where I can ground a new foundation.

I sing for my miracle
I’ll sing it anywhere.
I sing for what I so long have yearned for
I’ll sing it through my prayer.
Jennifer Dyann Aug 2010
A thought in the mind with an intuition of the soul.
Why do we write?
What we write.
When we write.
The cause.
The emotion.
The start of it all.
A large door backed up with emerging traffic.
Are you wanting to let others through?
Revealing your mind,
Your ultimate motive.

Was it euphoria?
That feeling when nothing made you feel higher.
No person or thing could take you down from your throne.
For one moment in time you could pass on that stimulation.
By bringing together, pen and paper,
You've began--
No turning back now.
Your mind-set back to that very moment.

Was it anger?
That feeling when nothing has made you feel so irate.
You've reached your boiling point,
Red with fury.
Your brow out of alignment.
Your utensil lashing out on paper as if it were your own mouth.
Screaming to the world at the top of your lungs.
If only they knew.

Was it nervousness?
That feeling when you just want to crawl up in a ball and die,
Hide back in your little corner.
Just writing about it sends beads of sweat down your forehead.
The time the whole world has eyes on you when your fearful eyes are so very blank.

Was it anticipation?
That feeling when you've almost reached the peak of the plot.
You know it's coming.
Chills are sent down your spine,
Wanting to share this excitement with everone surrounding you.

Was it sadness?
The sorrow, pain, and suffering.
You weep and want others to feel as if they were right there with you.
To build a lasting compassion.
To gain a sense of struggle,
A sense of not knowing if it will ever get better.
To feel for you.
Finding the reason for that long face through your writing.

Was it the kind action of lending a hand?
Through your thoughts,
Your voice on paper.
To touch lives.
To embrace a being without a single touch.
To listen without any attention.
To comfort without showing your physical affection.
That passion.
That motivation.
That satisfaction of someone coming up to you and saying, "Thank you."

Was it your mind purely running wild?
Story after story.
Thought after thought.
Creating characters by the hour.
Its racing had reached no end.
One solution,
Slabbing it all on paper.
Who else to listen, but an audience.
Too many thoughs and ideas to keep inside.
Cerebral overload.

Was it simply an experience?
Yearning for the reader to be right there beside you,
At that very moment in time,
At that place,
With that person,
Saying those things,
With that look upon their face.
That feeling,
In your gut,
With that person,
At that place,
At that moment in time.

Was it knowledge?
To inform the reader possible facts.
Your background.
How you became a writer.

The motivation.
The incentive.
That gut-wrenching feeling,
Deep inside of you,
Screaming to get out.
Pounding the walls of your mind to escape,
To let others in.

What you write.
When you write.
Why you write.
A thought in your mind with an intuition of your soul.
Jennifer Dyann Aug 2010
Every time you enter a room
Your beauty it just simply blooms
It’s seen by every single person whom
Is near your light and are consumed

You open your mouth to the largest smile
So bright, so white, so worthwhile
It may pause during trials
But once it’s back, it can reach as far as miles

Your purpose so great
Such a difference you make
With everything at stake
Blessings your way continue to await

You live each day with meaning
While the world is still weaning
Off of everything so demeaning
You take a stand for what’s right and continue intervening

Such powerful storms
Yet the woman inside continues to transform
You have yet to give in and conform
As your heart still stays warm

During all the agony and distress
You always confess
The sins you possess
And convictions nonetheless

Among all the mistakes
The misjudgments that quaked
Your heart it would break
As others’ would ache

Your testimony will reign
While others only try to admire and attain
The strength you have always maintained
And all the people’s lives you have changed

Throughout all the depths you have come from
The souls for Jesus you’ve won
For when judgment day comes
You’ll hear, “Daughter, job well done."
Jennifer Dyann Aug 2010
Strategically picked.

Not to be weak.
Nor act as cowards.
Not to be afraid.
Nor hang our heads downwards.

He who died.
Breathed His last breath.
Gave his one and only life.

So that we could live.
So that we could sin.
So that we could stand up and fight.

To stand against.
To be remarkable.
To be on the front line.

To overcome.
To become transparent.
To take the struggle head on and shine.

Given a chance to do something.
To run.
Head on.
And dive.

Into what you truly believe in.
What you deeply crave.
For what you, as a child of god, wants to thrive.

Let your talents bleed into opportunities.
Take charge.
Show the world what it’s missing.
Prove to them that our God is bigger than large.

Be brave.
Take hold.
The experiences you’ve suffered from.
Be bold.

Think back to all the pain.
All the suffering day after day.
Realize that He went through all that.
And now it’s fixed so you’ll be okay.
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