If you don’t write it,
It won’t come.
That spark of madness
Devoid of need for the tongue.
If you don’t write it,
It won’t come.
That hidden power in your tone
To bring you visions into the world,
A form of alchemy that pales to none.
If you don’t write it,
It won’t come.
That jewel in your belly that glows brightly
That seeks to find you day and nightly.
If you don’t write it,
It won’t come.
The spark that you find,
The visions you define,
The power you cannot hide.
If you write it,
It will come.

Today, I hope you realize how much you are loved
And it sets off a spark inside of you that burns brighter each minute
A spark that turns into a fiery warmth from the inside out to warm your hands and melt your pain into a wax candle of memories
A fiery warmth that never goes out
Not even when floodwaters rise to your chest
Today, I hope you realize how much you are loved.

There's a reason why I'm doing this
Somewhere, somehow
I set off with a passion and a purpose
That seems so long ago.
I decided it was worth it, not to wither into a selfish nothing
To surge on, keep on grappling
but I've almost had enough
and I'm
just
so
tired
.
When will I find the spark again?
I have some faith that
an ember of the passion I lost
still exists
somewhere between my lungs and beneath my ribs
Can my faith be ever enough?
May I find out.

They said you'll go places, kid
I heard it so often I believed it

I could be this shining spark
hope for a fire from nowhere

but like nearly every other spark
I crashed lightly into the grass

flared up once
and flickered out
into the darkness.

I don’t care how
or care what you do
to make it happen;
I just told you
make me shine
so slather me in turpentine.

I want the sun to shrink
and the world turn dark,
when she’ll no longer rise
after she rests her eyes
upon my fiery spark.

I want the moon to swoon
and raise the tides
when he looks for the sun,
but instead
it’s my beauty that he finds.

I want the stars to bow down
and shower me in gold
when I shine brighter
and reach higher
than the stars of old.

I want storms to make
the world stir
when I walk upon
their earth,
no matter what it’ll take.

I don’t care
if it kills me;
just answer my plea.
I just want, so badly,
to shine,
so slather me in turpentine.

If time on Earth is short,
then time with people is less.

So be the spark
in each other's dark.

This is true success.