Challenge #17: Something Inspiring

Fluffy

The Demon King ~ He/They
Original poster
STAFF MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
  1. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
It varies. I can't promise much consistency due to my chaotic life.
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Nonbinary
  4. Transgender
  5. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
Horror, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Superpowers, Drama. Also, romance is required with me because I will get bored without it.
Something Inspiring

smiley_face_cupcake.jpg

The poem you write for me in this activity should be positive, encouraging, inspiring, uplifting... Something that when you come back to read it, you feel at least a little more charged up than before. :) You can design this any way you want to. Write a simple poem that may inspire you or another reader. You could also write a cheer with snazzy rhymes, or a song!

I found a couple of pretty cool poems that suit this subject. So I shall share them as examples to help get you started:

Drive

Something about you that I truly admire,
Words from your mouth often inspire.
Glass is half-full, you clearly see,
Your positivity brings joy to me.

You're a combination of special and rare,
So many talents, with the world you may share.
Just the way you make others feel,
Is so wonderful, it's simply so real.

Wherever you go, whatever you seek,
I know you will conquer, no matter the peak.
By the look in your eyes, I can sense your drive,
I'm so happy, I know you will thrive.

by AnitaPoems.com

If, by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
 
This poem has been renewed, so to speak. I wrote it a long time ago (like 6 years ago I think?) and decided to give it some changes for this challenge. It's sentimental to me.

Graceless Ballet

My dearest ballerina:
even though your toes are sore,
you must dance forevermore.

Yes, you may have lost your charm,
but you still have what's inside;
your heart, your soul, and your pride.

The audience doesn't get
a broken dancer like you.
They don't know what you've been through.

Dust yourself off, my lovely.
Smile; yours is one to keep
no matter how much you weep.

Don't abandon rehearsals.
You would regret it, you know?
Quitting on yourself is low.

I'll be your number one fan;
you're such a beautiful dame
who has a beautiful name.

You can survive in this world.
A girl determined and fine,
and you will always be mine.
 
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Flying,
Spinning,
Floating,
Falling.
The Feather, the ultimate example,
Of how to ride free on the winds of life.
 
Footfalls echo in the vacant house
In the stillness of the silence the ghosts of those
Who've lived here before seem to be heard
Visions of children running up the stairs
Of a mother scolding but then indulgently smiling
Of holiday feasts served to family and friends
Of lovers snuggling before a cozy fire
But the barren walls and empty rooms
Are all that now remains and I start to see
New visions now
Of my children playing in the yard
Of serving them their nightly meals
Of the Christmas tree surrounded by gifts
Of curtains on the windows and pictures on the walls
Of furniture and carpet and of course the scattered toys
Of all the little things that will make this house
OUR home
 
The road is long and sometimes weary.
I know you must be tired
of the constant trudge of slogging,
the sense of being mired.
You have your baggage, and I've mine
which we've come to somehow love,
a backpack you just can't put down
a suitcase you can't stuff.
And I know you say you hate it,
and wished it'd disappear,
but then again, why do you bear it?
Why drag it there to here?
People sometimes tell you
"Just let that baggage go!"
But oftentimes that baggage
is really all you know.
So instead of dropping it
wholesale by the road,
take a piece out at a time
to lighten up the load.
First, unpack the clothes
that you feel don't fit anymore,
then get rid of the razor blades.
What do you need them for?
Then the chocolate your mother bought
for your birthday at the dollar store,
because she honestly didn't think
you could possibly want anything more.
Take that scale out of your bag
and lay it in the ditch.
Dump that book you won't read
about quickly getting rich.
Hopefully your load is lighter now,
and the road less hard,
now that you can walk upright,
as mostly who you are.