What is meant to be will be
Well, maybe or maybe not
However, it becomes more feasible
When we do what we're supposed to do
But if we just keep our fingers crossed
perpetually, waiting patiently
for what to be, to be
Then, what isn't meant to be could be the continuous "be-ing"

Why settle for regular,
when you can be the best

Why relent as the second,
when you can be the first

Life is what you make it,
All that you want lie in your hands

Nothing excellent comes easy,
Get out of your comfort zone

If it failed to work once,
try it one more time & in another way

Live to your full potential,
Never be found in a state of inertia

Time waits for no one,
Each day holds in it new opportunities

Embrace your blessings & be grateful,
Work & rest, love & give
Let every action of yours be purposeful.

Fight! Fight!! I said fight!!!
Fight for what you believe in
Not the fight where you throw punches
But by pushing through with tenacity
Look the challenges in the eyes,
Charge towards it with a brave heart
Take every step with a victor's mentality
Never back down even if you get hit
Listen to me, to surmount an uneasy feat,
You have to be willing to face the heat
You'll never win if you don't attempt it
So, fight like your entire life depends on it
You'll be more than happy that you did
My friend, now is the time to go take
what is already yours
Once you win, remember to inspire someone else.

Every night transitions into
a bright beautiful morning
I know someone might say...
Well, beauty is quite relative.
My question then would be...
Isn't life also about perspective?

A seed has to be given up
to the soil to become a plant
Water is lost from the earth for rain to fall
Often times, we make conclusions just from seeing partial/incomplete pictures

Blue skies, blue waters
Free zone, no borders
Mind is clear, no clutter
Calm ambience, no mutters
Shiny sun, soft breeze
Mind at ease
Skin's glowing
Heartbeats' regular, no racing
Attuned with nature
Fully self in this moment.

I am trying to write
But how can I,
when I'm in the writer's block.
My poetry book has been complaining
She said, recently it's been really lonely,
She hasn't felt the fingertips of my pen on her skin
I told her to put all the blame on me,
I'll make it up to you
But for now, let me hit the snooze.