- All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
- All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
- Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
- College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Invitation to Imagination
I have begun to foster motivation 
 By denying myself of worldly inebriation 
 I have become happy at the sight of my creation
 By the hands that unearthed the stone of my foundation
 A rise of happiness, a surge of inflation
 For a world that once thrived off of one’s desecration 
 Once barren, once thought of as a desolation
 Now is looked unto as the pinnacle of elation 
 A simple reminder, a close knit relation
 Of a story so old, it escapes memorization
 Somebody once said love was a carnation
 A mesmerizing touch to the world’s frustration 
 A gasp of brilliance in a moment of hesitation
 Lucidity in reality, ignoring the process of degradation
 For it rings true all throughout this nation
 Not a day goes by that we don’t yearn for vacation
 We want to flee to a world where stress becomes evaporation
 Yet we want to hold on to memories, like clouds to condensation
 Even if we do escape we sometimes face pain, flowing like perspiration
 Like a mid-morning brewing blend of coffee undergoing percolation
 I always wanted to wake up, taste something new—my gustation
 I always had a dream, where vision was my only sensation
 Luckily dreams like that, they do have expirations 
 Seeing is believing, but alone it is exasperation 
 And to live a life such as that would provide nothing but irritation
 To say I would be happy like that would be nothing but exaggeration
 For if the only thing I leave with in life is an others admiration 
 I can die happy knowing I lived what most men call: a life of liberation
 Sometimes though life rains upon you, a monsoon of precipitation
 It is without a warning, what life calls an arbitrary indication
 We must look at the big picture, ignore others accusations
 If we don’t, we may succumb to life and its temptations
 Most of all I don’t want to die alone—die amongst inner starvation
 I want to walk the transcending white light into that unknown destination
 For if the only thing not known about heaven is its exact location
 Why do people deny the fact paradise may be under their notation?
 The plague, the disease, the ever lingering mutation
 Is that we cast the role of the effector before the causation
 We fail to give gratitude to those we love, we lack citation
 Some of us exhibit movement decided by earth’s rotation
 Those are the fallacies of man, the extremist dictation
 Then they are those of us who fail to live up to society’s expectations
 The weak, the broken, the kindhearted deflation
 We all seek normalcy in a world of stagnation
 We deny others basic rights, while we push condemnation
 Then there the rest of us who constantly seek augmentation
 We provide the rest of the world with manmade innovation
 We are bold, yet the backbone of us lacks inspiration
 We tire quickly under a process of aggravation
 Because those of us who face life like this are merely decorations
 Ornamental beauty in a world of arbitration
 I want to be different; I want to be me; I want animation
 If I was to leave soon, I would rather it be by evacuation
 To a place where I could see you, my connotation of adoration
 For if I lie down tonight, and my dreams become my sedation
 Please don’t abhor the fact that my mind lacked proper propagation 
 The human mind is one of life’s intricacies, it succeeds in blissful fabrication
 Dreams are its motif, a sole proprietor of reality coping with its fluctuation 
 If life was to undergo cessation, I couldn’t imagine more than an invitation
 An invitation to a better tomorrow, an invitation to imagination

Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.
