"morale" poems
Dear America,
Do not call my generation stupid.
We were the first group of kids to learn a computer.
Think about that society: A group of kids learned this intricate machine. Yes, I'm talking about the O.G. Apples with the green type where you had to save with a floppy disk and if you put a magnet to the screen it went purple forever.
Yes those, same kids grew up and created everything you see before you now.
Everyday.
Do not call my generation ignorant.
In a short time span of years, as children, we learned about oral relations with interns and terrorist attacks.
From Clinton's impeachment to the World Trade Centers/Pentagon/Flight93 Somerset.
As children we learned; emphasis on the children part.
Our minds grew knowledgeable of a world at hand long before society gave us credit.
We grew up.
Do not call my generation lazy.
When we were sixteen and just received our license, gas rose to the highest it had ever been in our country's history.
We got underpaid and disrespected jobs:
cleaning up bathrooms and serving your foot-longs.
The ability to travel on our own, it was our new found freedom.
Like the early travelers roaming new found lands:
Our wings were spread.
Do not call my generation weak.
We are the same group of people who entered college or the workforce with the worst economic fall since the Great Depression.
You ask, "What did it do to you?"
Buried us in more and more debt until it consumed our life.
But, we became enlightened.
We majestically thrived in the chaotic times by finding out who we are, what we are capable of and that life will take us our journeys before we even see it coming.
The light still shines even when you are buried the deepest.
It does not matter what you throw at us next.
We will rise and conquer. It's the world's hidden secret.
I'm proud to live in this time.
I hope you are too.
Never giving up is our morale.
Respectfully,
THE PERENNIAL MILLENNIALS.
cc: (No HashTag Necessary)
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
Jo mere dil mein tu basi hai, (If inside my heart you reside,)
Toh zindagi ki har khushi hai, (Then I have all happiness in life,)
Na jaana – Na jaana jaanam mujhe chhod ke, (Don’t leave me alone,)
Na jaana – Na jaana mera dil tod ke… (Don’t ever break my heart…)
Tum se hi mera hausla hai, (My morale is from you,)
Tum se hi har faisla hai, (From you each of my decisions,)
Tere bagaer zindagi, begaani… (Without you my life is, stranger…)
Tere bagaer zindagi, veerani… (Without you my life is, emptier…)
Tum se hi jaana pyaar kya hai, (I have known love after knowing you,)
Tum se hi nayi zindagi hai, (Knowing you only I have a new life,)
Tere bagaer zindagi, begaani… (Without you my life is, stranger…)
Tere bagaer zindagi, veerani… (Without you my life is, emptier…)
Jo mere dil mein, tu basi hai, (If inside my heart you reside,)
Toh zindagi ki har khushi hai, (Then I have all happiness in life,)
Jo tu nahin toh, kya zindagi hai, (If you aren’t here, what my life is,)
Jo tu nahin toh, kya zindagi hai... (If you aren’t here, what my life is...)
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 6:40 AM UTC
I truly believe that one of the reasons that the US is despised and condemned world wide is because of such views on such characteristics as: honesty, integrity, independence(this includes not thinking in a collective mindset which we do as a culture, everything is apple or windows, pepsi or cola, republican or democrat, people need to think for themselves stop claiming and just be), persistence, determination, morale, empathy, tradition/heritage, learning, chivalry, discernment, and humility.
Instead of utilizing and perfecting these people of this nation and similar one's have become: prideful, dependent, drive-less, imprudent/unwise, insulting, ignorant(willfully so), objective, biased, crude, mediocre, and surface oriented.
In turn we have neglected the responsibilities we have of ourselves. This has resulted in physical, mental, and spiritual capacity regression on a mass scale. Most people have no idea what they are consuming in their daily dietary intake(I mean really know what all the ingredients are and what they do whether positive or negative). Most citizens have also become, literally and according to the United Nations Education Scientific and Cultural Organization, mentally incapable and completely inane as compared to even 15yrs ago. We have forgotten how to have a community to the point that neighbors don't know each other anymore. We have exchanged the truly important things in life like knowledge and wisdom for wealth and appearance. We have completely forgotten how to survive without the aid of water treatment, electricity, and useless objects. One of the worst of all things we have stopped doing, is being involved with our government; instead, we have put our trust in them without oversight, and this is why we have been losing our liberties. I believe, just like Benjamin Franklin stated, that any individual who sacrifices even one liberty for safety/security... deserves to have all of their liberties eradicated.
In conclusion, it is time to return our societies to ourselves. We need to relearn the truly important things in life and start living with ourselves, each other, and nature as we must to thrive. It is on us as a people to repair what generations before us, and our generations are doing; lest, I am afraid, our children and grandchildren will inherit the same ideals and expand upon them until we regress to the point that insolence, ignorance, and imprudence is the common norm... we have already begun to accept these. Open your eyes to the truth, at first it will be painful and difficult, but than you will be set free. WE THE PEOPLE ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR OUR FUTURES AND CHILDREN'S FUTURES.
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 12:18 AM UTC
12-17-2013
The constant chatter
lowly, gathering attentions
apprehension--that's the matter
thoughts are shattered
the noise: rushing, crushing, bustling in
and flushing out all rationale
growing louder, shouting over morale
and one who can no
control it, cowers, trying hard not to
a persevering temperament, one
who silences the sounds of increasing volume
madness boomerangs again;
pain returns once again.
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 2:49 AM UTC
Freedom flings
Tyrant kings
Into their rightful place
A head on a plate
Democracy inflates
The morale of the people
Oligarchy deflates
The idea that we're equal
Spiteful dictators make their way through the system
And dominate the world while nobody listens
Distracting people with things that glisten
Disseminating hatred as their vision
Engendering fear is their mission
To buy or sell weapons
For more money or more power
Dropping bombs from their ivory tower
From extreme explosions we cower
Explosions of hatred then violence
Explosions hastened by silence
Explosions of fire we ferment
To burn the faces off our enemy
To avoid exercising our empathy
Creating a world filled by entropy
People say ******** like freedom isn't free
When the currency we pay for freedom
Is restriction
We dampen our fiery feelings
With prescriptions
Freedom is free
It's inherent
It can only be taken or given away
It is not a proper excuse to slay
Those that rightly disagree
With what you're imposing
Freedom is fleeing far far away
When people are molded by clay
Of those with the power to shape civilians
Of those with the power to bring billions
Of people to their knees
When freedom is our fee
To live in timid apathy
Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 11:46 AM UTC
She is the lady on the road.
She is a mother, a sister, a colleague, a bird, a lassie, a damsel.
She is the lady on the road.
She spreads love and enriches kindness in the society,
She is the crux of an organization, and the fundamental principles.
She is the lady on the road.
She twinkles with the stars and shimmers with the moon,
She scampers with her pets and hops like a frog,
She is not a nomad, but a faithful keeper.
She is the lady on the road.
She wears short skirts,
She wears tight tops,
She doesn't encourage the flirts,
She neither abominates the leering of cops.
She is the lady on the road.
She holds a honourable reputation,
She forms the base of ethical standards,
She buries the grudges and resolves the dissension,
She consolidates herself and maintains her fettle,
She is the epitome of cheerful disposition.
She is the lady on the road.
She ignores the catcalls,
She endures the torture and prevails her morale,
She is a monument unshakable, and a stone unbreakable,
She dumps her burdens and enlightens her destiny,
She protects her dignity and negotiates with denunciation,
She does no harm, but deals with it.
She is the lady on the road, ..the seventh wonder of the world.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 7:37 PM UTC
sleepless nights, man these emotions ain't making me feel right.
one day I could be feeling my best, but the next minute I could be a mess.
Feeling ecstatic one minute and then fall into another rut the next, the cycle is infinite.
When was the last memory of a sweet dream? These few days I've awakened only to be covered in sweat.
Vivid dreams that torture me in my sleep and life that stresses me in my wake. My morale and soul feel weak, just how much more can I take?
I just need a break, time to myself and more time to write.
Maybe take a trip, run my fingers over every spine on a bookshelf and remind myself that I'll be alright.
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 10:08 PM UTC
GREED GREED GREED
GREED THAT MAKES
THE WORLD GO DOWN
GOING DOWN
ON A WASHINGTON PHALLUS
GOING DOWN
WITH THE PAPER PALACE
IN FLAMES
GOING DOWN LIKE PLANES
INTO BUILDINGS THAT STAND
FOR THE MAN
WHO HAS NO FACE
BUT HAS BOTH HANDS
IN YOUR POCKETS
GOING DOWN LIKE HIS PLANS
TO OWN THE HUMAN RACE
GOING DOWN
AT AN ACCELERATED PACE
GOING DOWN
LIKE A CHEERLEADER
BENEATH THE BLEACHERS
DOING HER PART
FOR THE TEAM MORALE
GOING DOWN
GOING DOWN
LIKE YOUR DREAMS
GOING DOWN
AND GETTING ******
GOING DOWN
GETTING ****** BY THE MAN
BUT YOU’RE NOT GAY
WAITING FOR THE DAY
YOU DIE AND ARE REBORN
TO RECLAIM
YOUR VIRGINITY
WAITING FOR THE DAY
YOU RECLAIM YOUR DIGNITY
WAITING FOR THE DAY
THE MAN WILL TAKE PITY
WAITING FOR THE DAY
YOU GET OUT OF THIS CITY
WAITING FOR THE DAY
IT ALL GOES DOWN
GOING DOWN
ON THE MAN
WITH THE TASTE OF SALINE
YOUR TEARS ON HIS ****
GOING DOWN
ON UNCLE SAM
WHILE GETTING ******
BY UNCLE RICH
TICK
THERE IS NO TOCK
IT’S MIDNIGHT
AND WE FORGOT
TO WIND THE CLOCK
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 1:05 AM UTC
Un vieux renard cassé, goutteux, apoplectique,
Mais instruit, éloquent, disert,
Et sachant très bien sa logique,
Se mit à prêcher au désert.
Son style était fleuri, sa morale excellente.
Il prouvait en trois points que la simplicité,
Les bonnes moeurs, la probité,
Donnent à peu de frais cette félicité
Qu'un monde imposteur nous présente
Et nous fait payer cher sans la donner jamais.
Notre prédicateur n'avait aucun succès ;
Personne ne venait, hors cinq ou six marmottes,
Ou bien quelques biches dévotes
Qui vivaient **** du bruit, sans entour, sans faveur,
Et ne pouvaient pas mettre en crédit l'orateur.
Il prit le bon parti de changer de matière,
Prêcha contre les ours, les tigres, les lions,
Contre leurs appétits gloutons,
Leur soif, leur rage sanguinaire.
Tout le monde accourut alors à ses sermons :
Cerfs, gazelles, chevreuils, y trouvaient mille charmes ;
L'auditoire sortait toujours baigné de larmes ;
Et le nom du renard devint bientôt fameux.
Un **** roi de la contrée,
Bon homme au demeurant, et vieillard fort pieux,
De l'entendre fut curieux.
Le renard fut charmé de faire son entrée
A la cour : il arrive, il prêche, et, cette fois,
Se surpassant lui-même, il tonne, il épouvante
Les féroces tyrans des bois,
Peint la faible innocence à leur aspect tremblante,
Implorant chaque jour la justice trop lente
Du maître et du juge des rois.
Les courtisans, surpris de tant de hardiesse,
Se regardaient sans dire rien ;
Car le roi trouvait cela bien.
La nouveauté parfois fait aimer la rudesse.
Au sortir du sermon, le monarque enchanté
Fit venir le renard : vous avez su me plaire,
Lui dit-il, vous m'avez montré la vérité ;
Je vous dois un juste salaire :
Que me demandez-vous pour prix de vos leçons ?
Le renard répondit : sire, quelques dindons.
2.6k
Depression, Depression the feeling of emptiness always a challenge to fill it with happiness. One of my favorite songwriters is Nick Drake his somber yet powerful lyrics about not be able to connect with people and depression really helped me in times of personal trouble. I was diagnosed very early on in my childhood with depression I started reading a lot listening to music looking outside my window watching the other children play knowing how I would not be able to connect socially. When my parents divorced I realized that my life began to go in a downward spiral then I discovered Nick Drake. I felt connected to him in some way as if I was a incarnation of him. When I listen to his music I feel the same sense of hopelessness the same feelings of isolation. At times I feel stronger for going through this permanent pain but then I think to myself what of my future. That question races though my mind it almost like its making me a restless ghost during those cold dark nights. Through my high school years I still felt the same isolation with people as when I was a child. But the big difference was that I didn’t place a big smile on my face when I knew everything was not alright. This time I expressed my feelings in a more mature and realistic way. I started to write a lot in my spare time I usually wrote a lot of isolated characters trying to find that source of happiness that would free them of their personal pains. Once I wrote a short story about a girl that I fell in love with being a huge fan of F.Scott Fitzgerald I described the main character as the girl all the boys want but can ever have. With a combination of Nick Drakes lyrical style and F Scott Fitzgerald’s plot structure I wrote a love story that defined my inner feelings that I couldn’t really express with verbal communication. Sometimes I believe when people socialize verbally it establishes a more meaningful connection but for me developing socializing socials wasn’t so verbal but it was with writing and listening to music where I developed a sense of identity that was a real morale booster to continue living life with the aspirations of success and personal happiness.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 9:11 PM UTC
Moral pulls herself up
by her own bootstraps
on her high horse boots
with stir ups when I visit
and the rocking chairs
throw down newspapers
and stand to attention
in the name of Moral support
looking like we might be game
who holds the whip hand in this sport?
I straddle the fence
with her strict father
Duty
Duty gives the orders here
we try to carry them out
they're no heavy burden
not keeping mum Mercy
from being close
to daughter Moral
Duty is of higher rank
and gives Moral
direction
Duty sets the boundary
Mercy's bound to
follow
while Moral
carries the compass
and the compassion
of a conscience
Me?
I'm loyal
love enough
and
light enough
to jump the fences
with my own defence
Moral permits
This defence is
good for morale
but Duty is always on guard
for Moral
a perfect match
that can have
a deadly when ignited
bite to catch
those who are free spirited
When Duty's asleep
alone
he leaves a stern
guardian
off the safety catch
in Duty of care
for Moral
- Discipline
I must steal
this care
away
from the arms of Discipline
when Moral's involved
because Discipline
in the hands of Duty
would explode in the face
of neighbourly straying
should Duty do what he sees
fit
without Mercy at his side
But should Duty awaken
alone
to his Moral's
dilemma
I fear
his Moral Discipline
can be Merciless
Did we burn our breeches?
almost
we rode a city of them
chaste
off racecourse
to show
Moral Italy
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 11:44 AM UTC
Yet again, I am struggling to sleep,
Yearning for my soul to keep.
Day by day pass with no remorse.
Death scouring the lands on his tireless horse.
First there was Marcos,
Then there was Kain.
Death is coming for all of us,
As morale begins to wane.
Shots are fired in hot sporadic spurts,
I duck for cover as my shoulder hurts.
Blood flows down my arm as I grasp my gun,
I close my eyes as my comrades begin to run.
I am paralyzed, planted in the bunkered earth,
My comrades carry me as they flee.
I fight with sanity, refusing to see my own worth,
As bullets fly by, in an endless torrent of maniacal glee.
The pain sears, racing through my mind.
Muscles, tissue, bone, beginning to unwind.
Concern crosses my comrade’s face,
As he looks at my pained disgrace.
Earth spews from the ground to my right,
Launching us into the thick fumed air.
I scream again as my pain rears its roaring might.
My vision fading as our bodies land on our earthen lair.
Death’s whisper then did creep,
His cold breath in did seep.
I feel no pain as I know its time,
To join my mates, out here on the Rhine.
Apr 12, 2012
Apr 12, 2012 at 5:32 PM UTC
Ethnic Raging in my face
Everywhere I care to look
Coptic Christians, brown and white
Scream intolerance, forsook.
Jew and anti Jew defile
All good laws of rationale,
In raw voraciousness of hate,
In howling shred of faith’s morale.
Blessed are the just for they
Enshrine their plaque of rich noblesque,
Blessed are the weak of will
Who deeply sip from traitor’s breast.
And blessed are the strong who hold
At bay the laws of God’s restraint,
In tandem with the rich who cower,
White, behind their armoured gate.
Ethnic raging everywhere
I watch it through the children’s eyes,
Led to purge the coloured flesh,
To flay a difference ‘till it dies.
Marshalg
Recoiling from it all.
Auckland NZ
11 October 2011
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 12:17 AM UTC
I started watching football when I was eight
At that moment I had everything to hate
The next day I went with the squad
I played with a poor morale
Than as the time passed by
People said Ronaldo in Madrid is *****
Than as the Manuel Neur got the fame
Messi got him chipped later in the game
In June they compared Andre Gomes with James
For real? Thats just lame
Merle said "Football players are like prostitutes"
They said "Giroud comes to show off his beard"
Footballers like Yahya dont even drink beer
While some footballers go to the club when they hit the big time
Tottenham striker said "He cant remember going to a club last time"
Bayern Munich bailed out Dortmund with a loan in the past
Oil money of PSG on Neymar gave me a flabbergast..
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 12:56 PM UTC
He said she was "she"
He said he loves "she"
He said he adores "she"
She says he was "he"
She says she loves "he"
She says she adores "he"
But why does she says
and he said?
Is she really "she"
and he is really "he?"
She and he were bounded by a red string
She and he were fated with lingering
attachments to a "he" and "she"
really, they were meant to be
Bounded by fate and destiny
That...they can see
a knot of friendship
only "them" can unleash
Bounded by fate and destiny
not by love and intimacy
but by morale and respect,
and friendship so unwrecked
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 11:25 AM UTC
*If inside my heart you reside,
Then I have all happiness in life,
Don’t ever ever leave me alone,
Do never never break my heart…
My morale is from you,
From you is each of my decisions,
Without you my life is, stranger…
Without you my life is, emptier…
I have known love after knowing you,
Knowing you only I have a new life,
Without you my life is, stranger…
Without you my life is, emptier…
If inside my heart you reside,
Then I have all happiness in life,
If you aren’t here, what my life is,
If you aren’t here, what my life is…*
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
If in my heart you reside,
Then I've every joy of life.
If in my heart you reside,
Then I've every joy of life.
Don't leave, oh darling,
Don't leave me alone,
Don't leave, just don't,
My heart will be shattered.
From you my newfound morale is,
From you I got this new daring strength.
From you my newfound morale is,
From you I got this new daring strength.
Sans you my life is incomplete,
Sans you my life is so hollow.
From you I have known what love is,
From you I got a new lease of life.
From you I have known what love is,
From you I got a new lease of life.
Sans you my life is deserted,
Sans you my life is unbeknownst.
If in my heart you reside,
Then I've every joy of life.
If in my heart you reside,
Then I've every joy of life.
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 2:02 AM UTC
Timothy Baxter: An intellectual genius with the emotional intelligence of a five year old
so thank you for these closed lips
and thank you for the impeccable hair line
thank you for the one too many thoughts keeping me up at 4 AM
thank you for my 5'7 stature
and thanks for all the self-loathing
thanks for the rent
and thanks for making me love hating responsibility
thank you
Mary Hartley Baxter: not one who came from white picket fences and Sunday drives. A giver. A lover. A control freak
Thank you for these psyche wrecking nerves
the bowling ball taking up permanent residence in the pit of my stomach
Thank you for teaching me how to treat women
and thank you for the stubbornness which allows this arrogance
thank you for keeping my feet attached to planet earth
while my head sails among the billowing clouds
for telling me how handsome I am
thank you for teaching me what it means to be in a family
thank you for letting me be a loser sometimes
thank you
Harry J Baxter: the heroic coward with a funny joke in bad taste and the right words for the wrong times
anti hero of a story nobody else is aware of
thank you for abusing all those pesky substances, they surely deserved it
thank you for the black lungs
thank you for speeding down dead end lane at five hundred miles an hour
thank you for remembering your helmet
thank you for saving all the words we never said to those we love
thank you for hiding from the unknown to avoid the scars of failure
thank you for getting those scars anyway
just so we knew what they felt like
thank you for the writer's block.... You ************
but in all seriousness,
thank you for building up your tolerance to beatings
because they will continue until morale improves
thank you
It's a strange place - the real world - monsters lay in wait in every shadow around every corner
and yeah, you aren't the human being 2.0
but you're prepared enough to board up the windows before the hurricane
and Mum, Dad,
I can talk all the **** in the world
but all of it would be empty
because for as ****** up as I am
as ****** up as you both certainly are
we've made it this far
and god **** it
I can't see our sun setting anytime soon
so my naturally adapted cynical sarcasm behind me
Thank you for loving me no matter what
even when the well was so dry love was hard to find
Thank you.
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 12:49 PM UTC
Tell me gently, beautiful Siren from the rocks
Whisper me memories
Who seeks my life end short
inform me bluntly, Beautiful siren from the sea
the soldiers marching to my gate.
Should I set the pitch to pour?
The demons march
I seek guidance in your song
Is there something I missed?
We’re sick
our morale is feeding the ant hills
Consult me Nicely, Beautiful siren from the rocks
tell me just how many friends,
I’ll lose to this war.
We found the sugar, found the wine.
lost the honey, lost time.
We’re out of rations,
low on passion.
men coddling tiny strands of hope.
Save me Now, beautiful Siren from the Grave.
My boats still floating
I could sail away.
back to my castle,
where my people lay.
I came here for vacation.
but I found your voice, decided to stay.
The people of my land pray,
that I go deaf and return to them.
but I decided to hear your voice
while my kingdom Rots and fades
While my people die and pray
I needed this getaway
my people, dying by my blade.
can’t stand them lookin’ up to me.
Their tears falling at my feet.
Them saying. “Please king, save me.”
praying “Don’t let them **** me.”
screaming. “They took my family!”
I wasn’t born to be a king.
I wasn’t born to be a king.
The siren sang her song to me.
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 9:48 PM UTC
Don't tell, but -
I missed my flight and...
And thought of you today.
That time when
You were working – a TV job...?
The details fade.
I was in the taxi
On my way
When suddenly the truth sank in –
I was not going to make it.
I almost called you
But I stopped myself -
You’d be at work,
I’d have to leave a message,
You’d call me back...
And the morale of the story
Would be - I am an idiot.
That’s all. An idiot.
I’m sorry and I feel stupid
And I want to call you now.
Now that I have
Something to confide
And no one to confide it in.
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 8:30 AM UTC
Boy, what a cutie! Gosh, such beauty!
With tap-dancing skills as well
A real tough gal, but she boosts folk's morale
That beautiful Joan Blondell
Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 2:26 AM UTC
Atop the ladder twenty-twenty,
I was enjoying the view.
Care Home visits a plenty,
Faces old and new.
Singing songs to raise a smile,
And vacant minds re-awoken,
Music to boost morale,
Mending souls once broken.
Frail voices murmured approval,
For favourite singers of their day.
“That was lovely! - Just wonderful!
Have a tea! - Please stay!”
Then, we talked all afternoon,
For little did we know,
What was around the corner,
The invisible foe.
And just like that, we were separated.
Back down the ladder I’d go.
Down there at the bottom,
The flowers would not grow.
The rays that kissed my cheek,
Were hidden from my gaze,
A tortured isolation,
As we entered a new phase.
Yet in your darkest hour,
I wished to shine a light,
So I worked to find new ways,
Tirelessly through the night.
Springtime and summer,
Brought with it a new hope:
Outdoor shows, joy and laughter,
(Needed to help us cope.)
My feet were on the ladder,
And life was on the up,
But slipping on the rain,
I fell back in the muck.
Atop the ladder twenty-twenty,
Now that seems long ago,
Through all the loss and tears,
I did the only thing I know.
Which was to carry on,
With a stiff upper lip.
I’d see you all again,
Once I regained my grip.
Twenty-twenty one flew by,
Just like the year before.
With notes of heartfelt lyrics,
Hidden in my drawer.
What awaits atop the ladder
For twenty-two, who knows?
But I’ll never forget,
When I helped them through their woes.
Feb 5, 2022
Feb 5, 2022 at 10:58 AM UTC
Lost in the darkness, we wander round-and-round
Trekking through the mud, with no hope of ever being found
As morale wains, so too does the memory of purpose
Growing more lost, as life spirals out of control like an untrained circus
Focus shifts from our purpose to finding a purpose
We look to be great in everything we do, hoping to make something of ourselves.
The more we try though, the more we place on our shelves.
As these shelves fill up, we begin to feel like failures.
When it comes to this endless despair, where are the remedies?
Where are the cures?
Darkness itself becomes our air and we begin to suffocate.
Take heed though, for eternity in darkness need not be your fate.
The Lord God is there.
Seek Him out, He'll pull you from the despair.
Focus your eyes on Him, He'll set your heart on fire.
Faith in Him will grant your heart's desire.
The road is hard, as it's not the beaten path.
With every step you'll grow, His love washes over us like water in a bath.
With each step your happiness will begin to show.
You've found a purpose in God, be blessed and comforted by His rod.
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 2:47 AM UTC
My Principal is forever ready to explore
New things from students who implore
And set a new goal for them to outscore
In their own life. He is ready to restore
Intellect and discipline in school therefore
Stands out and administers students’ footsore.
Cherian sir the one who is fighting war
Against anxiety and worry on door,
Which pester children and occasionally gore
Their morale and self-esteem. They spoor
Away from study which he sojourns before
They reach to larger extent and be cocksure.
Never he criticizes without any reason poor,
As he is a positive thinker. All of us roar
Which is pacified by him but for sure.
He is the man of principles and decor
Whose blessings on all of us ever pour.
Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 6:42 AM UTC