Joy is hope risen anew, being full of energy and not knowing what to do. It’s dreaming the impossible dream, screaming in ecstasy as You glimpse the great beyond. On a hot summer’s day, it’s a dip in The pond; It’s wearing new clothes that make you feel like James Bond; it’s Spending time with a person of whom you’re fond.
Joy is the answer to the call of the infinite, eternal sea from which we All sprang and will return. It’s the balm on the burn that is life, a knife That cuts through all despair; it’s the wind rustling through your hair as You drive down the road without a care.
It can be found in the darkest of places and can raise us to the highest of Places, if we only we submit to it.
It’s a fit of the giggles when you blaze a spliff and get legit lit. It’s the Power of words to make you resist the urge to binge and purge or slit Your wrists.
It’s finding your island of misfit toys and not giving a whit about the Thoughts of some supercilious shit.
It’s that hit to your gut that knocks you on your butt and makes you say, “What?” when you see a hottie, that tingle in your body when you think Something naughty.
It’s the exhilarating thrill that sends chills up your spine when your legs Entwine, giving you all the feels. The kiss that seals the deal and lets You know this is for real real.
Joy is the phoenix born from the flames of our will made manifest When we kill our ego and tap into our inner hero.
It’s shots of Jäger and Jack back-to-back on a Saturday night. It’s Dancing in the club, fifty-deep, and not caring that you’ll get no sleep. It’s ice cream on a lazy Sunday, lounging in bed all day and staying up All night.
Joy is that contentment when only you and the night are awake and only Your thoughts feel real. It’s the warm glow you felt the first time you Met and the spark you get when you kiss that you’ll never forget. It’s the Rush as you gush, busting a nut once, twice, thrice.
It’s the intoxication you feel when all you can think about is them, when Just the sound of their voice or the scent of their skin shoots you to Heaven and back again.
Joy is the simple pleasure you got playing as kid. Seeing the world t
Through eyes so innocent, where anything could become a toy. Those Simple things that we took for granted because we young and dumb. What glorious fun could be had from a ball and a bottle. Those summer Days spent playing catch, football, and countless other games late into The night. Those blunder years when everything was still so new and Full of wonder before our innocence faded and we became broke and Jaded.
It’s the feeling that you aren’t alone, that it was ok to like other boys in That way; it’s coming home.
Joy is finding a place where you fit and not giving a shit what anyone thinks.
If you take anything from this poem, know that joy is what you make of It.
No comment yet, add your voice below!