http://slow.writerscafe.org/idahostevens The original writings of author idahostevens en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776075149 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 © 1-07-04 John Stevensv1He waits at the door of my heart this hourKnocking so gently for me.To answer the call, through His powerTo be all I can be.          The choice is mine to make this hour.To accept or reject His love.   &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/idahostevens/1280208/ by John Stevens Going through my lifeLooking for something different.Going through the motionsOut of focus... badly bent.Trying hard to besomeone else, you seeNot facing my demonsNot loving my self.Searching, searchingwith "ME" on the shelf.Dark, invisible barsalways holding me back.T.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/idahostevens/777518/ This is rather cryptic. I tried to fill in the in-between but decided to leave it to the imagination. It made my brain hurt. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/idahostevens/777493/ by John Stevens A wasted life, from fog of use.Scars untold, years of abuse,Bends the mind, from right to wrong.Life out of tune, no longer a song.Scars so deep, it covers the heartno hope shines through, no point to startto erase the pain, it seems insaneTo a life gone wro.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/idahostevens/772635/ by John Stevens It was spring time after a long hard winter in Idaho and my family and I went to Nebraska to visit my folks.  This was more than 20 years ago but in my memory is as if it were yesterday.  I remember this time because when we arrived the weather.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/idahostevens/772634/ by John Stevens When the curtain draws closed on my mindAnd leaves my body alone.Think of the times we were together,The times we talked on the phone.�"�"�"�"�"�"�"�"�"&#20132.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/idahostevens/772321/ by John Stevens Life seemed to suck.The pain seemed so real.The drugs seemed so easyTo change what I did feel.At first it seemed to helpTo cover up the pain.But the sucking sound I heardWas my life, down the drain.The hole I found myself inGot deeper by the day.Hope seemed to fade f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/idahostevens/772303/ by John Stevens I sit outside the jail house, this Sunday afternoon.I watch the parade of people, going in and out so soon.The visits here, come and gone. Time swiftly passes on.The sadness shows on each face for the one which they belong.The mother walks with their child, quietly t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/idahostevens/772281/