The world runs cold, the world runs fast,
It tests how long a man can last,
It takes its share, it takes its toll,
Then tries to bargain for his soul.
The years roll by like driving rain,
Some learn to settle, some complain,
Some trade their dreams to ease the load,
And slowly drift from roads they chose.
But not this man, blessed with means,
Who walks between the vast extremes,
To speak the truths most won’t embrace,
Then bears the cost in every place.
While others sleep, he stays awake,
Still walking paths they wouldn’t take,
Still carrying a vision very clear,
Through every setback, doubt, and fear.
The clock strikes two, the streets grow still,
Yet something fuels his iron will,
A restless strength he can’t ignore,
That won’t let him become the norm.
New mountains left for him to climb,
More ways to spend his waking time,
Ground still waiting to be gained,
And lessons hidden deep in pain.
The world sees labor, sweat, and strain,
The years he spent out in the rain,
The sleepless nights, the sacrifice,
Yet not the reason he still fights.
What they don’t see beneath it all,
Beyond each rise and every fall,
Is something few will understand,
The force that guides a driven man.
They call it grit, they call it drive,
The stubborn will to stay alive,
Yet neither word has ever shown,
The force that fuels the inner storm.
No battery could hold that kind of charge,
No engine built could pull that large,
No wire forged by human hand,
Could power all that he has planned.
For every failure fed the flame,
With lithium burning through his veins,
Each closed door only helped reveal,
The strength that pressure tries to steal.
He learned the world respects results,
Not promises or good defaults,
It rarely asks what roads were crossed,
It only measures through its thoughts.
He always rose before the sun,
Long after others said they’re done,
And gave each day his heart and mind,
Pursuing purpose by design.
The world keeps searching far and wide,
For greater power locked inside,
While failing still to recognize,
The force no measure quantifies.
For lithium may power machines,
And fuel tomorrow’s greatest dreams,
Yet no invention can provide,
The fire he carries deep inside.
Inside the man who won’t give in,
Who faces loss and starts again,
Who keeps his faith and keeps his way,
No matter what the doubters say.
For all the power earth can give,
Cannot compare to how he lives,
When purpose burns within his soul,
While faith in God still keeps him whole.

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Wow! My husband and I were just talking about lithium (we began micro-dosing it a week ago per Dr. Sherri Tenpenny’s advice in a recent weekend health conference I attended online). I opened my email and read THIS!! It’s as if you heard our conversation!! Incredible!
Yes, our soil is depleted of lithium and she feels everyone could micro-dose 10mg of lithium due to all the C-word trauma we have all had since 2020!
Anyway, thank you for your poetry. It obviously it home for us tonight.
Thank you very much, Sheila.
That really is incredible timing. Out of all the topics and all the poems that could have crossed your path at that moment, it happened to be Lithium right after you and your husband had been discussing lithium. Sometimes things happen that make you stop and think, and I completely understand where you’re coming from.
I am glad the poem resonated with you and your husband. One thing I enjoy most about sharing my writing is seeing moments like this because they remind me that we never really know how or when a piece might connect with someone. Sometimes the timing of things can be pretty remarkable.
Thank you again for reading, Sheila, and for sharing that. Thank you for your continued support. It is always greatly appreciated. I hope you and your husband have a great night and week ahead. God bless you and yours always. 🙏😎
Very nice.
Thank you very much, and thank you for reading and for your support. It is always greatly appreciated. 😎