The main road lies dormant, its houses seemingly asleep. But at 6 a.m., life bursts forth in a flurry of activity. The heavy traffic that streams towards Jack in the Box Gully is relentless, a so-called alternative route. No rest for the weary, as the relentless tempo of modern life takes its toll.
Balance seems irrelevant, and human feelings are an afterthought. Desires dictate actions, indifferent to the residential nature of the area. The fact that children under ten live in these houses is brushed aside. The sheer volume of vehicles, the multitude of auto loans, and the presence of underage drivers paint a picture of a society disconnected from reality. Public transportation is deemed unfit for their island, relegated to third-world countries in their minds.
Are these the Gen Z rebels once more disrupting norms, or simply indulging in youthful mischief? One day, we may have to take to the skies like birds, as the ground becomes increasingly perilous. The Ministry of Transportation's generational stance—whether a Gen Z, a Millennial, or a Baby Boomer—seems irrelevant as all grapple with the impact of modern conveniences on the environment.
The choices of today inch us closer to harm. The cacophony of life is set into motion by the decisions of fools, and the cost may be our very planet. As the sun rises, the moon still holds its place in the sky, a symbol of hope for those who still believe in miracles. For the people of my country, let us hold onto this hope.

The Story as I Understand It
Leonora Speyer

In my opinion, I understand the story. From biblical times to now, as I write a little note to Leonard Speyer, I believe that Eve was misled by Adam all along. Adam was approached by the Serpent long before Eve came to the Garden of Eden. The Serpent knew that he was no match for her, so he intended to bring her down. Her looks intimidated him, and her beauty was unmatched. Beauty without brains is a myth; she had what it took. Man is weak because he is easily influenced by external temptations and lacks the strength to resist them.
The apple in the garden was for showmanship. It wasn't real. Did they mention if the birds picked at the apples? From experience, a bird would pick at the apples, so if they did, they sinned too. There were nine of us in the home. My mother would willfully leave money, food, and other stuff to tempt us to see which of us would eat it or take it, knowing it was forbidden to take things without asking permission. Today, women are being blamed for the weakness of men. The more the blames, the stronger women become. The apple was just the key to the knowledge of good and evil: curiosity kills the cat. The apple was the way out of the garden to go and seek. Those two were the Gen Z of biblical times in my opinion. Adam and Eve were considered the pioneers or trendsetters of their era.

Whatever is good is divine,
Whoever chooses wrong is entwined with evil,
Let the foul pollute themselves,
And those who lie, let them continue their tales.
Bad liars must have good memories.
Today, my passion is my solace,
It helps me navigate the madness around me.
It only takes one, two, three to trigger my anxiety.
"The thoughts you resist persist," they say.
With the positive energy I hold,
I greet you all with a hearty welcome and a smile,
Letting you know I appreciate every one of you.
Whatever is good is divine,
Whoever chooses wrong is just evil.
My life is an open book, revealed in my poetry.
Some seek plastic surgery to better themselves,

I improve my mind with my writing.
Words are my friends, surrounding me.
As my broken heart aches, my writing improves,
Like a crying baby given a lollipop.
At times, the sound of rain calms me,
Lying awake won't help, but the tick-tock of rain might.
I choose my words carefully,
For manufacturers lie at times,
And one size doesn't fit all. Because the manufacturers lie at times
All sizes don’t fit all.

What the birds know today is that I am not there
Funny as it may seem,
those birds and I have something in common
We are always looking for something,
What puzzles me the most is when I put out food

They appear from nowhere, chirping and calling for others
To come to share the food.
They are fascinating creatures,
I think I have hyped them too much by feeding them a lot of sugar:
However, I loved how they picked the leftovers.
And in a nanosecond, the food was gone.

I am back in the cold once again,
I truly missed those birds outside my door,
They do not need to migrate south.
And most of all they don’t have to select
Or regret voting for a president
In their defense, each of them appears to be a leader.
Who leads Birds of a Feather?

A violent rushing wind crept through my bedroom window,
bringing the Brooklyn air and the smell of fumes.

It's not a good combination at all.
When will I learn that the young Gen Z is more frustrated than us baby boomers?
When we are in bed, they are up all night.
When we are fully awake, they are about to lie down.
When we try to reach out to them,
They get annoyed easily.
Should we fold or unfold to the madness of this so-called new generation?
Fold to the madness of the new generation.

I am a beacon of light for my homeland. My quaint village, serene yet vibrant, is a haven of peace. The youth, with their carefree spirit, fill the air with laughter and song, unbothered by the world beyond. Even the birds know to respect the tranquility of our lives.
From the winding road that leads to the bustling city, the countryside remains unchanged. I love to gaze out and let my thoughts wander as I speed by in the fast-moving vans. My people, ever resilient, continue to drink from the well of life and mind their own business.
Today marks what would have been my late mother's 94th birthday. She was one of my favorite people, a true embodiment of our country's spirit. Rest in peace, dear mother.
With Christmas just twelve days away, I look forward to blending once again with my countrymen, like a well-orchestrated steel band. From New York to the Caribbean shores, no holiday celebration is complete without the melodious sound of the steel pan in Queen Park.
Whether we cry in a storm or dance in the rain, this time of year celebrates life and honors those we've lost. I am a ray of sunshine for my country's people. Merry Christmas, my beloved homeland.

I was never truly loved by anyone
Only by me and I
and I am not even sure about either one

I love my therapy session with poetry
I can assess myself with self-evaluating
I am at the point in life when I don’t
Give a rat ***, about what others think of me
Retirement has taught me to be a free agent
I am now the captain of my soul
Free from other people's demands and clutches

I have not heard that demanding salutation in the
Morning of Mrs. Lander can you come to the front desk
Or waiting for the clock to strike 3 to make my exit
Time is of the essence, and it means nothing to me these days
I will be there when I get there.
Unless it is boarding time in row 3
To love me is to know me,
as for me to love you it will take
A strong will and endurance in my poetry sessions
I have been there and done that
And will not allow it into my life anymore,
Haven to be humble and being humiliated
I had to endure, haven to question myself
About my love for me, I lamented:



I was never truly loved by anyone, only by myself, and even that I question. Poetry is my therapy, a mirror for self-evaluation. I've reached a point where I don't care what others think. Retirement has made me a free agent, the captain of my soul, free from others' demands. No more morning calls to the front desk, no more waiting for the clock to strike three. Time is now my own, and it means nothing to me.
I'll be there when I get there
unless it's boarding time in row three.
To love me is to know me,
and for me to love you, it takes strength and endurance. I've been there, and done that, and won't allow it into my life anymore.
I've endured humility and humiliation, questioning my love for myself. I lamented: