CREATIVE SIDE
The Call
The call has planted its seed,
And with great fervor, embedded its plan.
Has been clearing out the cobwebs
And unthawing the frozen man.
Every roadblock must be cleared.
Woe, the obstacles overwhelm
And the weakest link must be fixed
To enter the new realm.
From doubts with powerful opposition
Chain the man to low expectations.
The stiffening hold of regression
Locks him in unfavorable stations.
He once had a will and a power.
Energy and joy was his daily song,
But somewhere in life, it diminished
While laziness guides him along.
He can be more than he became.
A warrior turned to sludge.
Out of the hole, he must climb
Releasing the innermost drudge.
Can the call be enough for the man,
The will to try something new?
A cleansing of the soul.
To his whole self, he must be true.
The call has buried its seed,
While hope waters the plan.
It takes discipline and great work,
To rebuild the dying man.
The refurbished man can be great,
Ignoring the desire to quit.
He must resculpt his ambitions
And be willing to commit.
The storms will beat this man,
Throwing hailstorms and rain.
He must ignore them all,
While for greatness, he does train.
The closer he gets to his goal,
The stronger his body will be.
A strength inside has built,
While the quitter inside him will flee.
The call has planted its seed,
And with great fervor, embedded its plan.
Has been clearing out the cobwebs
And unthawing the frozen man.
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The Call
By Stephanie Daich
Excitement
Excitement! Would I carry you around-
Always in every moment,
Your joy not to be drowned,
Upon me, your bestowment.
The flowing hormones of exhilaration,
Of pure euphoria taking hold,
Of life full of elation,
Within me, you unfold.
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Excitement
by Stephanie Daich
CREATING NEW BOUNDARIES
From commitment hour, I am not true.
As others saw-I cannot do
As others-I cannot calm
My disappointments I cannot balm.
From the same upbringing, I do not hold.
My fulfillment-left untold
My satisfaction-left unchecked
To them, I’m a defect.
Then-in my life, new friends I meet.
My brokenness-they complete
My outcast-they include
My life; renewed.
To some groups, I am stained.
A relationship-strained
A loyalty-never formed
Always theatrics performed.
Yet out there are those who appreciate.
Caring for me-or my fate
Caring for me-they give me all
They invite, include, and call.
From this insight, I will no longer give.
My heart and time-to those who don’t forgive
My heart and time-to those who defame
And tarnish my name.
My time I’ll give to those who care.
Loving and kind-I’ll follow anywhere
Loving and kind-to them I’ll unite
Forming a friendship solid and tight.
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Creating Boundaries
by Stephanie Daich
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There are odd things done in the sickened mind
By the men who live in deception;
The brain’s chambers have their chilling secrets
That would scare you upon inception.
The jails and judges have seen their type,
The men with no conscience to bear.
But the most dangerous,
Is the man who doesn’t care.
