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I always find motivation at the worst of times Driving, eating, listening to music, going to sleep, my mind always kick-starts when my body is occupied My motivation is a curious thing perhaps I push forward for all the wrong reasons money, women, fame maybe I do for all the right ones to care for my mother, to not have any stress The complexity of my mind is a puzzle I have yet to figure out I am cold and calculated, logical and precise and yet I am warm and unsure, lazy and uncoordinated I tell myself that this is normal, that I am “just human” then I think “when was I ever not?” when did the thoughts swirling in my mind become so twisted and mangled, that I forgot my physiology? Am I human? Or something worse? Do I live up to the expectations set down by the factions of people who do not know me, truly know me? Society, tradition, legacies, all prompt a forced evolution into what they need me to be But what do I need? Even I can't answer that. Friendship, love, money, space, respect, power, and the will to use it correctly I've got pills. To admit I needed them meant to admit I was weak, and it hurt. I am man, cunning and powerful. No. I've always been middle class, public school, minimum wage. High stakes low reward, tireless work in a never ending cycle I am no man, I am a person. You cannot define me I am weak and fragile, strong and unbreaking soft and cuddly, hard and combative As a human I have variety and the skill of adaptation at my finger tips I can be anyone, do anything, continue in their footsteps or forge my own path It is my choice many things try and take my choice away depression, government, different beliefs that all come to a point on a spear that aims to pierce me pierce my will, my hopes and dreams, my way of life and through all of that I still stand dead father, sick mother, fat, drop-out, loveless, unsuccessful, a fear of the future striving to please the ones I love while they spout hate and ignorance weathered and torn, I still find a way to smile and though storms rage endlessly within each and every one of us we can still smile, laugh, love and learn even thought the weight of our individual worlds can keep us down we can still breath, speak, and show kindness no accomplishment is too little there is a war inside of all of us daring to burst out a battle to get out of bed, to go outside, to write, to read, to have fun or to work hard every hit of life we take could be laced with hardship and difficult decisions and no person should be ostracized for what you deem as failures and shortcomings we are people of duality, contradictions, and inconsistencies there is no criteria for being human there is nothing wrong with you, there are only things that hold you back there is nothing perfect about you, only things that you favor about yourself there is nothing you should be doing and nowhere you have to be in a world where everything is out to get you, and your guard stays up never stop fighting for the right to lower your shield never stop fighting for the right to be who you want to be You may not have the job you want, you may not have finished your homework you may not have gotten out of bed but always remember tomorrow is a new day to change what you hated about yesterday
0
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
A Try at Slam Poetry
I always find motivation at the worst of times Driving, eating, listening to music, going to sleep, my mind always kick-starts when my body is occupied My motivation is a curious thing perhaps I push forward for all the wrong reasons money, women, fame maybe I do for all the right ones to care for my mother, to not have any stress The complexity of my mind is a puzzle I have yet to figure out I am cold and calculated, logical and precise and yet I am warm and unsure, lazy and uncoordinated I tell myself that this is normal, that I am “just human” then I think “when was I ever not?” when did the thoughts swirling in my mind become so twisted and mangled, that I forgot my physiology? Am I human? Or something worse? Do I live up to the expectations set down by the factions of people who do not know me, truly know me? Society, tradition, legacies, all prompt a forced evolution into what they need me to be But what do I need? Even I can't answer that. Friendship, love, money, space, respect, power, and the will to use it correctly I've got pills. To admit I needed them meant to admit I was weak, and it hurt. I am man, cunning and powerful. No. I've always been middle class, public school, minimum wage. High stakes low reward, tireless work in a never ending cycle I am no man, I am a person. You cannot define me I am weak and fragile, strong and unbreaking soft and cuddly, hard and combative As a human I have variety and the skill of adaptation at my finger tips I can be anyone, do anything, continue in their footsteps or forge my own path It is my choice many things try and take my choice away depression, government, different beliefs that all come to a point on a spear that aims to pierce me pierce my will, my hopes and dreams, my way of life and through all of that I still stand dead father, sick mother, fat, drop-out, loveless, unsuccessful, a fear of the future striving to please the ones I love while they spout hate and ignorance weathered and torn, I still find a way to smile and though storms rage endlessly within each and every one of us we can still smile, laugh, love and learn even thought the weight of our individual worlds can keep us down we can still breath, speak, and show kindness no accomplishment is too little there is a war inside of all of us daring to burst out a battle to get out of bed, to go outside, to write, to read, to have fun or to work hard every hit of life we take could be laced with hardship and difficult decisions and no person should be ostracized for what you deem as failures and shortcomings we are people of duality, contradictions, and inconsistencies there is no criteria for being human there is nothing wrong with you, there are only things that hold you back there is nothing perfect about you, only things that you favor about yourself there is nothing you should be doing and nowhere you have to be in a world where everything is out to get you, and your guard stays up never stop fighting for the right to lower your shield never stop fighting for the right to be who you want to be You may not have the job you want, you may not have finished your homework you may not have gotten out of bed but always remember tomorrow is a new day to change what you hated about yesterday
This was a first attempt at writing a spoken word slam poem, but you can still read it for yourself and get the gist of it. It's no touched up with capitals and everything, because it was meant to be read out loud, rather than passed around, but I digress.
Chaiebel
Written by
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
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