What if I spoke instead of staying still, And let my truth cut clean through comfort's shell? What if I bowed no more to someone’s will, And walked away from praise that served me well? What if I paused, and chose to hear within, And let the quiet shape a deeper me? What if the fault was not my shame or sin, But fear that kept my heart from setting free? What if the wound became a do...

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When tempers flare and voices rise,
It’s wise to breathe, not moralise.
A quiet word can cool the flame,
While shouting only spreads the blame.

When someone mocks or plays unfair,
Step back – don’t answer with a stare.
For digging traps for someone’s fall
Might lead you to your own downfall.

If rumours swirl and trust is thin,
Let honesty speak from within.
Your name is worth more th...

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They call it strange—this habit of speaking aloud, to oneself, thinking alone, and questioning everything. But science has spoken: those who talk to themselves sharpen their minds, embrace chaos, and thrive on challenge. This poem is a tribute to the self-speakers, the deep thinkers, the quiet geniuses who refuse to silence their brilliance.
 

They point, they whisper, they call it absurd—
Ye...

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In a world where success seems reserved for the cunning and the ruthless, I am the world’s biggest loser—the one who rises each morning, goes to work, and takes pride in self-reliance, while many take the easy route, relying on welfare or cutting corners. I shoulder my responsibilities, pay my bills, meet every expectation, and treat others with respect, only to watch those who ignore these values...

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In the stillness, 

My tongue tastes each sip 

of my coffee

In the stillness,

My teeth grind every bite

of my food

In the stillness, 

My eyes linger over each word 

I read

In the stillness, 

My fingers 

languorously write every letter

In the stillness,

My hands slowly 

color each petal

In the stillness,

My heart speaks

And 

I hear my thoughts

...

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You only really win, having lost.

On the front lawn, all is identical until you notice it.

Every other blade you see its 50 shades greener than your own.

Those shades depend on light. Those blades gleam off light refracted.

Interesting...
Who has the light?

Every day you look, you stare, you glare

with a drink, with a book, with a chair, with a care.

Your care, carelessly, mi...

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