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With Goal in the  mind
you focus your card,  
Forgetting days nights
and working so hard,

What ever has come in
the target your way,
You have always strived
to keep it at bay.

Resources are albeit
but skimpy and low.
You Seldom get worry
and never  you bow.

While eating and moving
or going for walk,
You put your attention
on measures you talk.

Virtues that you own
not common in mass,
Seldom are found and  
tough to surpass.

Perhaps  is the reason
why I have regard,
Your focus certainly
deserves this reward.

But often  I doubt
your fire your zeal,
Queries comes to mind
this what I feel.

Is it your passion that
makes you work hard?
Or Else is pushing you
jumping the  yard?

Since I have also seen
a victim  a prey,
In forest jumps hard
when  lion on way.

Just see if guilt,Fear ,
doubt and remorse?
are not controlling
your action of course?

Ajay Amitabh Suman
All Rights Reserved
The kind of decision you take in your life,  determines the kind of life you're destined for? Is it more important to enhance your phoney ego or to have job satisfaction in your life? What do you prefer: looking at others or working on improving yourself? Between obsession and passion, what should you choose? It's absolutely your decision what to decide.
Farah Taskin Nov 2021
I write
to fight
my intense
Lyn-Purcell Jun 2020
Bird flies over trees
Wait for me around my mind
Dreams rise without fear
Nothing like listening to the song of birdsong!
One step at a time.
One step at a time
Much love,
Lyn 💜
I have waited
Waited for someone
Is it the same date
Often, you may cascade unknown
It is all in your waiting
The clouds are full and wilting
You cannot clutch them
They escape like tilting dark sky
Well, that's an anachronism
You cannot change everything
If you think you have control over the present
It is better forgetting the past
Without a sense of authority or freedom
You may be a preacher
You will never be reliable
Or as certain as time
Or the verisimilitude of rhyme
Realize, that poetry is just romance
It is the people at the front of line
Who get what they want
The others wait for their chance
Gods1son Mar 2020
The waters that were to drown me,
I walked on them
The fire that were to burn me,
they made me shine better
The stumblingblocks that were to trip me,
they took me higher
The naysayers that were to discourage me,
they motivated the achiever in me
The rough roads that were to weaken me,
they made me stronger
Attempting to stop a winner,
makes them go even farther.
Mark Toney Oct 2019
Abundant Blessings Continue,
Descending Endlessly From God.
Happy Is Jesus, King Like Melchizedek,
Nary Other Potentate, Qualified Ransom,
Savior Triumphant, Universal Victor.
Wholeheartedly Express Your Zeal!
5/18/2018 - Poetry Form: ABC Poem - In this example, a poem in which every word begins with a successive letter of the alphabet. The first word begins with A, the second with B, the third with C, etc. ("Express" phonetically represents the "X") - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
Mr Trismegistus Aug 2019
"If your wounds you'll let me heal,"

Says the Spirit,

"I'll give you zeal."
Vass Apr 2019
Finite is the abyss I am in,
in my iris still burns a zeal,
my psyche is a shark without a fin,
and I refuse to be its meal.
Dani Oct 2018
Absolutely beautiful carcinogenic
Debating, echoing, fetching
Gathering handfuls, intoxicating
Jigsaw kindness lacking memory
Nothing operating properly!
Questioning reasons sincerely
Testing universal visions
Why x-ray yesterday's zeal?
26 letters, 26 words...
Stephanie Frank Oct 2018
Thud, Thud, Thud, Thud
He trudges forward feet soaked in mud
Eats your brains, lips glossed with your blood
Sorry, that's not how this poem goes

He no longer heard the chirping of birds
The smell of the sea meant nothing to him
The colors of the sunset were black and white
He stared dead in the eye if someone tried to fight

She no longer tasted the richness of chocolate
She couldn't care less for beliefs or fate
Emotions were foreign and love was alien
Suicidal thoughts were a daily companion

Motivational quotes and speeches made him scoff
Rosy smells and scented candles made him cough
Fancy razors replaced money in her purse
The stick and light now made her feel worse

One foot in front of the other, their subconscious said
Their organs were sentient and worked at will
Consciousness, however, was a different story
For though parts moved, their minds lay still

They spoke without zest, like programmed robots
They made love without passion, out of habit
There was nothing to live for, no raison d'etre
They were sleeper cells, zombies on a clock
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