'Desire' 'to' ' Inspire' 'Scholarship' 'Slam'

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I wanna grasp tight I losing sight... Prolonging aches, Unsettling hype....! I wanna fly high My burning sigh... Now, awaits none Not even strive...!
The water crashes against the strong cliff My feet stay stuck The water continues to flow
Her next challenge is flooding right in front of her And the rough stones tremble underneath her feet
I wake up the next morning with tear stains down my cheek. Puffy eyes, still can barely breathe. Can't comprehend... Without you here.  
"What inspires you?" "What inspires me?" "Yeah what makes you do what you do?" I took a breath to think of what I'm about to say,   "Music inspires my creativity and let's me confide,
Through the darkest valley these soldiers do go, weaving 'round the allies, through fire and snow.   Tired of bullshit coming from perves, from misogynists, from male "leaders."  
The sounds of chords, bass, and drums in a beat. Puts a scorching fire in me, and keeps me up my feet. Kendrick Lamar, Tyler the Creator, and J.Cole (sounds like coal)
I wake up and fight; Each day is a new battle.  But I never quit. 
When I hear a line in a song that sends shivers down my spine – When I see a painting that dazzles my eyes – When I see a scientist speak of the Voyager spacecraft, Wildly, exuberantly –
Four Witty Jokes, thought-provoking questions, meaningful discussions Happiness lingers in our presence, never a moment without excitement  One falls. Jealousy.   Three
War, a Young Man's game For he speaks with Young Man's voice. And his wild wolfish words a cause for young men to rejoice. The old men pass him by, ears deaf with thunder lead
I have a fire within me An inferno barely contained within the crevices of my soul It creeps upwards, upwards, ready to come out Ready to scream out And I try to retain it
This time I'm alone In familiar surroundings I am able to tune it out While the radio is still tuned in, And I can hear the TV from the living room And I look up to the sky And I say Wow  
We were nurtured in orchards. Day and night, our cultivator painstakingly  harrowed hard dirt until the earth was tilled into something more habitable.
Lux
Leaving, Evening is upon, so I leave, Push through the crowds and arrive to my secret house, And I enter.  
Soft lyrics, a simple beat -- vibrations within the air -- lo-fi music to soothe me; bouyant sounds to inspire. Musical inspiration allows me to write stories. Who knew that sounds and voices
You
I find poetry playing in your sweet smile, Passion reflected in the universe of your eyes, Music that twists and shimmers in your voice. When I wish to create beauty, I take my pen and sketch you In words.
You, my snowstorm mother—gray lady of winter destined to suffer, wailing like one of the damned as death shudders through you with an echo. An echo of the hollow girl stolen away by the sun;
Inspiration I find it in anything And everything   I find it scattered among my senses The stinging feeling of winter's frozen bite The hush sound of the ocean waves as they fall and rise
We’re in a state of constant clapotis— reaching chaotic spikes that look like progress,  but never really moving at all.    Simulated punctuated equilibrium. 
The sound of many noises. The placement of many voices.  Voices of those who create melodies. Voices that can become remedies.  Remedies for pain unseen.  Remedies of hapiness redeemed.
Everyone has a desire to inspire. Everyone can inspire through fire.  Everyone has a fire that burns inside. Everyone keeps that fire hidden, until someone opens it. Everyone needs to let their fire run free.
What comes from the darkness, But an opportunity for light. Faced with the world's starkness, There's only left to fight. For problems breed solutions, And corruption breeds reform,
Born through the thick flesh placed in the hands of a stranger, into which I could not see. Though once I opened my eyes I saw them, the ones who loved me. Years and years go by
Late at night  Looking through the windows  of the second story bedroom,  a couple hours after bedtime,   After reading her favorite books 
When I'm feeling tired  And uninspired           I turn on my location And look for motivation. But the road to success and the address               To Happiness is a journey Not a destination.
When I'm feeling tired  And uninspired           I turn on my location And look for motivation. But the road to success and the address               To Happiness is a journey Not a destination.
The warm, salty air assualted my nose as I hopped onto the aging dock just outside my house. I looked out at the reflections in the water.  I could see the bridge, the seagulls, and me.
there are words in my mouth disguised as sugar and honey. they roll off my tongue in a delicate routine i’ve preformed my whole life tasting like arsenic as they burn my tongue and throat.
To the woman who lived in the face of borders The first a country whose language she did not know To marry her love and only know the meaning of the word "wife" and move  thousands of miles away from home
Addiction. It was always there growing up with you.  You taught me to walk, talk, and ride a bike. Dad, look at me! I’m doing it! You would leave and I would stay laying and crying. Daddy’s little girl, you would say.
Inspiration.  The lady in red, all dressed to impress she's going out tonight.  3rd date, that's when you know you've made it. 
When I joined I felt so weak Looking at myself made me reek I was so fat I couldn't get up when I sat It was so hard in the beginning that I almost quit I knew if I stopped I would't get fit
Expecting me to be a doctor Xeroxing me to be like my brother Persuading me with her indoctrination Even when I have my own ambitions Can you see I want to be more than a physician  Tell me what can and can't
Five to seven weeks I’m hoping for past 80 years for me Designed with a purposed I had to find my own   Five to seven weeks
I used to look to the stars Back before I understood the cosmos I, the lizard in need of affirmation Only drew light from a dead source   I attended an emotional burial  In the carpeted room designed
Little girl picked up a stick, not knowing how long it would be A journey began, she found in herself what she needed to see Confidence and self-love rose above, higher than she could know
They are warriors for a just cause, Their great character deserves applause, While the memory of them is bittersweet, In our hearts they will never be obsolete.
a canvas that’s not white when empty, but Blue: Maya Blue, Royal Blue, Sapphire Blue. Time slipping through the fingers like molten glass, stopping Memories 
I see a green tree  I think of her I see a green Starbucks straw I think of her I see a green road sign I think of her   
A Beautiful Place  We walk these halls and only see the surface But little do we know how much is buried inside We look at these faces without seeing the wounds
Here’s to the mavericks! What a bunch of assholes.   To imagine a better world, They have the gall to challenge the status quo, By spinning thin air into gold!  
I’m a snowflake drifting through the air It’s below freezing and no one seems to care I criticize my crystal eyes, on my route to the ground The wind blows hard against my scars,
Love is a trap. Love gets a bad rap. But why not? You do what you don’t ought. Just like me, you’ll see. I met someone by accident. I quickly thought it was meant to be. That we were destined.
There are lots of other weavers, They sit at their looms and flow into the string. Most of them sit above me. I watch their work flood into the streets, For the world to see.   It overwhelms me.
I prefer my words to live along my pia mater and not on paper Somehow, they are more vivid there More true Yet something is compelling me so strongly to write them Type them Down My thoughts of you
His luminescent skin To the fine hairs beneath his chin The faint sparkle in his eyes Pushes me every morning to rise   The intensity in his movements Excites me to make improvements
I was so wrong, hewas the one was supposed to love me. Instead, he strippedthe life right out of me. He took awaymy burning passion for life, mywant to do anything but make him my world. Self-worth,
26
I believe my life started when I hopped in a treehouse and saw the world Or possibly a little later with a trio who couldn’t stray from trouble, whether that be a camp of gods or a magical school
and sometimes,  my heart longs to be  held by something more than my ribcage. 
The cold, the pressure, it excites me. Seeing others in, it motivates me. Without it, I am a snake, Within it, I am a fish. It is my life,
Softly spoken words tickle my conscience A wisdom that only a grandmother could know Words that inspire me Words that help me grow  
“Can’t let nobody kill my soul and bring me down…” As her sweet voice escaped from my earphones,  one by one, the frozen twigs transformed into enormous palm trees, each swaying with life 
I look up at my idols wishing how I could be like them how their words could raise an army how their colors fit just right how their songs can elevate me I wish I could be like them  
I look up at my idols wishing how I could be like them how their words could raise an army how their colors fit just right how their songs can elevate me I wish I could be like them  
I look up at my idols wishing how I could be like them how their words could raise an army how their colors fit just right how their songs can elevate me I wish I could be like them  
I am inspired by those who Love unconditionally always everyone Those who view their love not as something to be earned, but as something given freely   I am inspired by those who hurt
As time continues forward there’s always been this lonesome thought floating in my mind ever since I was a child: “Why good people let themselves get treated so badly”. This phrase was the root of my insperation that my mind had graced me with.
My life clock strikes twelve years. I can’t help but hold back the tears.  My mother must go to a home that is no longer hers. Leaving behind only a curse. 
All the time I wonder how she has the time. Mama how did you sit and listen to me whine. Long brown hair with whisps of grey, my mama inspires me everyday.   She holds my hand and helps me stand tall.
The timbre of a breeze induced whisper fills my head with the buzz of nature, the crispness of shadows, stark, against the radiance of light, flirts with the spectrum  of wilderness shades.  
Love You never realize it but Love Is everywhere All pink and rosy In my hair, under my nails, beneath my feet
I’m commended and cast out for my old soul, For my preference of a paperback between my fingertips, For my hips swaying to the soul of the sixties,
Chats with friends. A song on the radio. A YouTube video or TV show. A play. I can find all the inspiration I need. It flourishes naturally, no effort required.
Inspiration comes in exotic waves. The biggest wave that crashes onto me is how people admit to their flaws. Tears may fall, and bodies might shake. But being brave is what is most inspiring.
Inspiration What is it ? It's that feeling of having a great idea We all get inspiration from many things Music, books, and even stains on the ground
When it comes to my inspiration what is the key? That is a marvelous question to contemplate you see. It all starts with listening to an upbeat tune
Here I am today Standing tall and mighty waiting for graduation the succcessful ending I've been waiting for.   I couldve gave up but im still pushing through  to make my momma proud
Dear Old Self,    How are you?  It’s been a while, hasn’t it?  I would be lying if I said I missed you.  If I can recall, it took a while to erase away the bad memories of you, and now you want back in? 
Why
WHY Look up Look around, Dear friend, the answer to the question you seek is why.   Why does the sun set and rise
  Every spring a new flower blooms in remembrance of the previous year.
Take a breath as the sun begins to rise. Like a child, your imagination soars. Breaching with potential-- eyes on the prize, Your savor this and move on seeking more.  
All you have to do is believe I wake to a sea of golden rays falling upon my face This is the day I start my new path I was born again like a new born seeing the world for the first time
What was once a set of lines Is now a dance of chords Is now a song of emotion Is now a breath of air Music has only been heard Through the instrument that plays them
I look and see, But no one really struggled like me.  In this open book,  The words have me shook.  Trying to study 
Once the dust of sleep is relieved from my eyes, my first thought is green This gets me out of the warm, comfortable area where I sleep
I think I could stare into the sky forever No matter what colors it contains in its depths   Sophomore year marching band practice caught marveling over a dance of burnt oranges and pastel pinks  
914 days, 8 hours, and 15 minutes Since I began this long journey of higher education Since I decided that I will be more not only for me but for you: The woman who has let me see what some of this world has to offer
My eyes were opened I saw her pain Though she smiled Though she laughed  Her heart was tired  It hit me hard to see her hurt
Culture is a loaded word. It conjures different images for different people. For me, it brings me to a faraway land. Taiwan: Bustling streets of busy people Motorcycles and angry drivers
Inspiration, for me comes from the ink carved squiggles of the written word. Never before has anything been more beautiful 
What if my twin sister wasn't gay? Would the people actually care? Would they let her breathe in the same air? What if her girlfriend wasn't gay? Could he walk to school without these little boys being so cruel?
A titter tatter in the morning hours wakes me A simple thing One heard by all every morning Yet a treasure to me  
I can’t remember how it feels to feel Something, Anything. I want to feel again. Anger, sadness, Even hatred.  
Tiny paws, reaching up so high Grasping my fingers with tiny claws Little mewls, screwed-shut eyes The mother's patience made me pause Watching her, kind as can be Nursing her little ones, softly purring
It is not easy to follow the path of another or to find your own  But which will leave you stranded in a shadow And which will lead you into the light of day
Click, the sound of my camera goes off. Smiling faces gliming towards me. What more could I ask for? Familar faces surrounding me and my hope and dreams standing right by me. My thoughts taking hold in my journal,
I've said goodbyes and had close calls My grandparents and aunts, I lost them all My mom's stroke could have been much worse My dad's illness is still running its course All the pain takes its toll
Im at the start of a journey  One that is harder than it is long that journey will toss me around  and it will sure try to buck me off  but I'll stay on. Many people wont approach that bucking bull
it struck me in the veil of night in a silence so quiet, it seemed to scream out to me in the deep breaths and the tears on my pillow nighttime itself was tangible, definite
Kids dive into their imagination To look and seek for inspiration They find ideas for games, stories and art But that kind of inspiration doesn’t come from the heart  
How can we drive with no direction ? How can me live with no passion ? To inspire means to do something creative the ability  fill someone    Motivation is the way but having the ability to move, jump, shake,
I've come to you from the dark corners with nothing  but a candle and a star I have not much to give with my empty palms but I am capable of love, happiness, and dreams
This is the story of my battle with depression. This is the account of my life before I overcame chronic anxiety and constant dejection.  
When the world seems drab I play my music all day To slay the sorrows
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.
Little wandering human, Don’t lose yourself in this world. Remember who you are, Don’t lose yourself in shiny things and a fancy car. Remember why you’re here,
A blade of grass in a field Bending in the breeze. Closer, Dew shines, Each tiny droplet shining against the  Fantastically green blade, reflecting the  Gaze of the sun.  How is it that 
For the love of humans  earth is falling apart Insects fry by the kiss of the sun,  animals drown in their own sweat    For the love of humans
Legs aching, hot sun parching the tongue and skin rag tag garments only barely perserving modestly             deep in the heart of Nairobi Kenya                making the daily trip for water
In Abuela's arms I am safe and home. My nose is burried in her black silk hair With the smell of lavender And vanilla near.   Her arms will wrap me In an embrace cloth with memories.
I gave up writing years ago. When I was told I wasn’t worth teachers’ time, When the pen was ripped from my hand
I am what I am but  I’m inspired by what I could be — the smoldering bit of coal named 
A raindrop on a car window A lightbulb flickering across the room A shuffle to reach the cold side of a pillow And a tear falling from the eyes of a happy groom The way he smiles in my direction
Inspire Something that people strive to do in the knick of time Leave a footprint on our brittle soil of Earth once they leave And some day it may or not be me
  They say Where are you from? you look like a Brooklyn girl I say yeah straight out the Bush the heart of Brooklyn yeah that’s where I’m from  
You
Light a fire of desire Inside a home with no walls; The warmth of your words Cascading to inspire— All my future hopes to hold
The best things come in two The flowers with spring  The stars and moon Mother oh mother, how she would sing Big strong father, who calls my name
The best things come in two The flowers with spring  The stars and moon Mother oh mother, how she would sing Big strong father, who calls my name
1995, the war has ended, a family with a three year old little girl A family that looks as it has seen dark nights and even darker days A family that had survived a genocide in the 19th century
Voices  Voice of the child, babbling and happy Voice of the woman, soft and warm Voice of the man, husky and strong Voices together in song Pictures of heaven Goosbumps on arms Voices  
In a sunny day, I pass the streets of the city, cars zoom by, people on their phones. If you look closely at the shadows, the corners full of grime and dirt, you see the reality of the city.
Inspiration is hard to describe. There may be time where it just randomly hits. There may be times it won't come at all. For me inspiration comes in different forms.
There's a little light in me A spark you may say It keeps me moving forward  Even through the rough days   It tells me to keep going It tells me to stay strong
The hardest thing to understand is Why and when and how? Where is it that we start our lives? The answer isn’t now.   The answer is you’re always living Each action and each step
They told you life was full of dreams  so I buckled in and got secure  they forgot to mention what it means the bumps and turns you'll endure.  It's not always about the gold 
I look into their eyes  and I know they are watching me. I see their smiles and I know they have been expecting me. I hear their words and I know they are telling me they need me. I feel their hearts 
So many things can be inspiring, the birth of a newborn baby or even Jesus dying.  People choose their inspirations so easily,  its almost as natural as a family.  People get inspired by a good, happy event, 
September 16, 1997 His first little child came on down from heaven. He got mad, threw a fit and told the doctors, "You better save both my wife and my daughter!"
Sindhu, a bronz age Oldest civilization Filled with large ruins
What is time ? A thing we created Time is Timeless Or Can time really run us short ? They say Time heals all Well time will tell Time is a virtue Time is a Spell Casted out to us all
When we were all born,  we had a simple beat in our chest.  Our hearts keeping rhythem,  growing into something I do best.    Tapping my foot to the sound I hear.  The symphonic simplicity
When we were all born,  we had a simple beat in our chest.  Our hearts keeping rhythem,  growing into something I do best.    Tapping my foot to the sound I hear.  The symphonic simplicity
The wall is white. Everything that was part of the room is white. The objects we own defines difference. No matter where we move these objects 
BTS
Beyond the map of the soul Together are one Sing and teach loving yourself  
  What inspires me? I find it when I look into those piercing emerald eyes And those cheekbones that could win a prize. Or the curly hair that we both share.
  At times I feel like the world is on my shoulders My life follows a repetition each day Everything seems to revolve around time 
At one point in life everyone feels down They feel like there may not be any hope left They might even have some sorrows they would like to drown Because they feel like a wreck
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