My Pulse

“Now we wait.” Said she.

“No,” said he,

“We breathe,

We pulse,

We regenerate.”

 

What makes you?

Smooth skin,

And human features.

But what's beneath your skin?

Blood pumping

And thoughts racing.

What makes you tick?

My motivation is not fame,

Nor wealth, nor riches.

My pulse is for my future,

I want to do what's right.

My pulse speeds inside myself,

No other can define,

My push, my heart, my thoughts, and actions.

They are all inside.

I tick because I know why I'm here,

To glorify God,

And Stand for justice.

I wake because I have a song,

And hands, and mouth to play it.

I care because I cannot stand,

To see another suffer.

I work because one day I'll say,

I did my best, I'm happy.

I love because He first loved me,

And wants others to know it.

I fight for what I know is right,

Because I'll never regret it.

I speak to communicate,

My thoughts to those around me.

 

We don't live once,

But every day.

Plan ahead,

And look that way.

But don't let the past repeat itself,

By not caring enough to change your ways.

Speak out for right,

And against justice.

Wake up to live,

and breath.

Be thankful,

That you live today,

For now we're alive,

And every day,

But tomorrow may not stay that way.

You die only once,

So remember that.

You must leave your mark,

While you can.

While you can.

While you can.

 

I tick with the pulse of passion;

Passion for music, and justice.

Music to make heart cry,

And justice to save the innocent,

And love to save the world.

While I can.

While I can.

While I can.

 

Unzip my heart,

And you will see.

That these indeed,

Are my inner workings.

You'll hear my tick loud and clear,

A steady pulse,

beating endlessly

Like a clock,

Telling the time of my life.

My tears fall for the uncried for,

For 57 million,

Who never had a chance,

My tears fall for Rhapsodies,

And melodies of melodies,

Sorrow and strings of gold.

My pulse, my pulse,

This is my pulse.

This is my heart,

I speak my mind,

Not just some words,

Strewn for anyone to find,

Like seeds scattered

For birds.

For birds.

For birds.

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741