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Bureaucratic liars hand out commands Empty-headed sheep obey Free-thinkers get shot by men in blue
When one ponders on the word, “Inspiration”, Images of Sparks, fireworks, Laughter, cheer, And gleaming bright lights Come to mind. Oddly enough I sometimes see
My inspiration, sense of dedication. My drive and the way that I Strive,   All came from a woman  heart soft like a cushion
Strength comes in many forms.    Resilience;  Getting swept away with the current  Trusting that smooth sailing is ahead.    Leadership;  Knowing when to step up 
It won’t stop here. I’ll keep going without fear. There isn’t an easy way and I don’t care what they say. Through hard work my way will be paid.
Eat dessert or drink sugary coffee but don’t guilt yourself into working off those calories.  Bake the cakes with your loving mom as the sunset spills its colors in the messy kitchen
The muse. It stems from the inside When searched for outside.   The muse. It is in the form Not in the function.   The muse. It is in the fancy Rather than the facts.
He is a beautiful man As I listen to his stories… War, Muslim, Gay, Death, Romance, Hard work, He inspires me to be better I love him, but he doesn’t love me
Inspirations are   the diamonds hidden in the   darkest parts of life.  
Not inspired to do not inspired to createdue toa lack of ability to feel, must embrace the momentto later mold it.   
Inspiration comes in many different forms, It may even lead you to grow some horns. Seeing the world as it is, It makes you think in times that are amiss.   To me the place where I see the most,
When the faucet is stuck and ideas can't get through, I flip my mind around and see the world new, Then inspiration flows in an ocean blue.
Inspiration is what forces me out the bed in the morning Besides School Inspiration is the curiosity of what today has in store Regardless of a terrible day
The absence of hope behind a girl’s eyes That use to shine so bright. He took that from her. She pretended to have so much life But no one knows behind that mask she sobs because of the pain she hides.
Weakness is a quality in which I adore and detest- My need for finality- of all the discourse in occurence in my life. The frustration of such an event;
What inspires means the promise of a life better than the one I currently have. The knowledge that people like me hold the life that I want so bad.
A sky full of stars A light overheard, a lot full of cars A raging river A tall skyscraper, of only a sliver   A hero coming home A stranger's smile, no longer alone A partner in crime
My inspiration doesn't strike It flutters Dazzles of vibrant motion Wavering playfully in midair To alight, My eyes brightening, On an extended fingertip.    
The wind whistles  And the music howls Through the mountains And up a breeze Following the glowing fire  Catching sparks that sputter
High school days are for picking out your prom dress, pursuing cheesy relationships that will inevitably fail, making friends that will last a lifetime, going to football games.  
Oh, how we stare at the pretty flowers Awaiting their sunny bloom Slurping down their syrupy nectar In hopes they'll heal our wounds
Oh, how we stare at the pretty flowers Awaiting their sunny bloom Slurping down their syrupy nectar In hopes they'll heal our wounds
My melanin complection is my inspiration. Being able to show off my coco butter skin while walking down the path my ancestors paved for me is an attribute to my inspiration.
Where's my seat? Oh, I know you! You have a card? I do too. Where's my seat? Piano sounds, it's time to sing. Turn around Where's my seat? Do, Re, Ri. Up the scale.
Chills, tears, smiles, cockness, hapinness, sasification, determination  What is something that is unhuman but has power to give you all these feels? Music All the feels you ever wanted to give someone
Chills, tears, smiles, cockness, hapinness, sasification, determination  What is something that is unhuman but has power to give you all these feels? Music All the feels you ever wanted to give someone
In the world outside my window  In the simple way the wind blows In every little piece breath of nature The brushstroke of the creator There is always something there To push new thoughts into the air
Craig is a hurricane;  A pernicious storm delivering nothing but havoc and destruction. This bipolar alcoholic is more destructive than most hurricanes the world has ever seen.
I woke up today, I think I won.  I didn't jump to conclusions, like so many other times I've done. I opened my eyes without desire to close them again.  I stepped out of bed without desire to withdraw them in.
Time. Time is such an important thing, you never realize that you have to consider.
“That smile how do you do it everyday?” “Love” was all she said. The smile that went through hell and back. The smile that has been at a breaking point.
Have you ever been scared? Felt like the blood in your body just stopped moving, Stopped circulating, make you believe you’re dead Like if you tried to step forward your leg would break on impact.
I want to create unrest in you, As those before created in me. The kind that sets your soul ablaze  And nags until it's free. It won't let you sleep without a dream, Or rest without the glimpse of a beam.
Dear you who is learning to understand, It's not about you. It never really was. True, your words (like knives) cut deep into my heart, ripping it apart when I needed it mended.
Down in the dumps, Why should I even get up? It is not like today is going to be any different, everything I do seems insignificant.   Everybody is stuck in the same cycle,
Dear Man,  
Iv'e watched desire, existence and the ripened fruit fall and clash from the disrespect of inhuman species Glided through adolescence hoping that the kinks in my curls will relapse through its stuggle 
When I was born the stars told me that I was going to be everything I wanted to be. They spoke so soft ad kind I knew that discovering myself would be hard to find.
Is it the ambitious girl dream? To wake up not knowing what the day may bring? Or is it knowing that through trials, and tribulations She will remain! Is it the ambitious girl dream?
What do I do on a rainy day When the storm clouds won't seem to go away? What is it I do to put a smile on my face? I take a step back, I slow down the pace.   I forget about all of the stress and plans,
I open my eyes , I close my eyes, I lay down, I wake up, Nothing has meaning. Everything is the same.      You mean nothing. I mean nothing. THIS. ALL. MEANS. NOTHING.  Without motivation, my world is a blur
My happiness through the storm is like a baby that is born Held in the arms of it's mothers, my happiness is there when I suffer Throught the days of the struggle, at time when my knees may buckle
At this point in my life Nothing seems to make me feel good It’s like I’m the last person In an abandoned neighborhood Friends will come Friends will go But there is one person
Monday’s are depicted as tiresome, Where the weekend of fun ends. The rest of the week then seems like a drag, lazily carrying yourself through the dull times  
[Hook] I'm so exhausted . Can ya see I'm frosted I tried too hard an' lost it Now I'm frost bit . Bitch you just crossed it Please get da flossed kit Fuck aroun' an' i tossed it
I am a god To a religion That doesn’t exist it is a fraud But the origin Of it is not Because it is about me And the wars i fought Just to be let free I am a warrior Sent to warn
She walked up on stage. Her chin up, Back straight, Body leaned into the microphone.   A deep breath,
Written Expression Stuck. Brick barriers of muddy membrane. Imprisoned. Caged by my thoughts and identity. Black, young, and Christian.
When I was young, I heard the song of a caged blackbird singing, I heard happiness and vitality in his voice, like he was proud to have seen this year’s spring. What I didn’t realize at the time
I've been told my whole life that I'm hard to handle. I tried to be quieter, softer, more agreeable and likeable.  Why? Why smooth out my edges? I am sharp like a razor.
I Dreamt Of The Land, That Unbelievable Land, Where I Pay For Entitlement, With The Cut Of My Hand, Where The Rune Of Treachery,
Fifteen years old, You finally can fill a training bra.   The boy behind you in class whispers,
At the age of fifteen I lost myself in the cold of a crowded highschool. I didn't know what was cool, I didn't follow those that ruled. Halfway through my freezing freshman year I discovered I wasn't truly lost,
Saturate me. Watercolors on straphmore are never enough when I want more. More of you - of your hands on my lower back, of hiding from your dog who I affectionately dubbed "baby monster",
Bell Glass I try to cross the thresholdsI try to shovel poetry in glass bottles eaten by the seaSome BellJar note washed ashore,some ancient hand had written
Dear daughter,   I am writing this to you as I am barely just experiencing life This is so I can connect to you more as an individual Cause I know as I get older my memories of being a teen will fade
Ugly. Fat. Aren’t you ashamed to look like that? They called me such names that stuck in my head There was nothing more painful than what I just read
There is a moment, when a spark thunders down, when all I need is a glass and no sound.The first moment like it, which no one could predict, was, for me, when everything clicked.
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