The Starved and Underused Word spelled J.O.Y.

A voice,
It's calling through the darkness
Faintly, weak

Desperate for a response
Growing more frantic
Still a subtle cry though

Drowned out by boisterous voices
The liars of troubled times
Making an attempt to bury the starved one

No, it will not stop
This voice will be heard
No matter how long it takes
No matter how strong or weak it is

As determination grows
The pace of time slows
Sounds from everywhere but this voice become muffled

A slowly gaining courage lifts this voice of piteous longing up
Showing a vividly clear and powder blue sky
This ragged hoarse crying...

These boisterous yells attempt to continue
Giving all their strength to silence a scarred, lame word
A word that despite its ragged disposition, brings beauty
And puts a smile on the faces of all who hear it

Joy...

A Success Belongs to Those Who Try

I miss the man who reads a story
I can't find a way to meet the woman who sings
I am too nervous to find the playwright

I cannot fear who I do not know
And I cannot greet the stranger who shy's away

I wish to live
And be the friend, the model, and the student,
Maybe even the teacher

To sit in a dark room
It does not suit the lively men, women, and children

Go out into the world
Be the success you dream of being

You cannot experience
What you don't chase after
And you cannot see
What you let hide from your eyes, mind, and soul

So ask the man desired to be
And find the success meant to be achieved
Find your dreams
Grasp them and don't let go

Don't release the running goal
It will try to escape you
Or it will give in and embrace you

Give yourself chances
And let others chance a her to himself
or a goddess to her own lively heart

what will begin
Will not necessarily relate to what end comes about