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Best Encouraging Poems

Below are the all-time best Encouraging poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of encouraging poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Encouraging Poems

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Angels Encouraging Word's by Girl48, Country
An Encouraging Word by Baity, ChiquitaChiamaka

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The Best Encouraging Poems

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A Triolet for Linda

To those you care for, always you impart deep love; how beautiful and sweet you are! I pray you find a way to mend your heart. To those you care for, always you impart poetic gems! Return to this, your art. Grab hold of words and shine again, a star. To those you care for, always you impart deep love; how beautiful and sweet you are! Written 12/6/14 for the Fighting Depression(poems for PD) contest of shadow Hamilton


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014

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To Take Each Day As It Comes

To take each day as it comes
To gratefully praise The One
Joyfully face the new dawn’s grace,
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
To guard my thought as it roams
On anything or anyone
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
To be careful with my words
To use the value of my hands
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
To do everything I can
And bring a smile to not just one
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
To celebrate other’s gain
Not consciously cause another's pain
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
Not all the time comes the sun
For sorrow comes to everyone
And that I must understand.

To take each day as it comes
And know that I’m but a man
I will be glad, life’s not that bad
And do my part in God’s plan.



*A resolution during a time of disappointment.

Kim Patrice Nunez
04 August 2015
image credit: Edwin Hofert


Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

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My day as a woman

When I awoke, a woman I'd become
The spirit of many, contained in one
Strength and beauty, mystical tears
Magical entity, who hated mirrors

Looking at reflection, I seen my flaws
Yet in the background, I heard applause 
Others seen me, with much different eyes
I listened too their voices, discarded my lies

The blood of creation, flowing in my veins
A brave warrior, a vision with brains
Nurture and strength, complicated friend
Passion personified, a master of pretend

Layers of lovely, deeper than a well
If you love me, I have a secret to tell
Loyal and fierce, sometimes hiding my face
Push me to far, I'll be gone without a trace

My day has ended, time to go to bed
Still words unspoken need to be said
Yet in the end I turn back into a man
Enriched by women, I am who I am

For Women Only Contest 2
By: Richard Lamoureux 
Perhaps you will allow me to be an honorary woman 
Either way I enjoyed writing this poem. Thanks for the inspiration.


Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

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Worst Love Poem Ever Written

Listen to poem:
I suck at dying poems

Chemo poems, Metastatic Cancer poems,

Hair falling out in the shower poems

 

And I told a half truth

When I told you I could write you one

In less than six months (It's been eight)

I apologize for being so late

 

I wanted your poem to be pink and graceful

Like those ribbons

I see all over the internet

Filled with cheesy generic rhymes

That could get me hired by Hallmark

 

 I just know my metaphors will start melting

And that my similes will get all soft

 I guarantee you the rhyme meter will be off

 

I went to Google

And the typed in the word 'happy'

Three billion things came up

Not a single inference to

Breast cancer, hair loss

No redirects to mastectomies

 

The only thing research could teach me

Is that a good day on chemo

Is when your stool doesn't come out tar Black

And has no blood in it

Or when your urine

Smells better on Wednesday

Than it did on Tuesday

Sleeping less than 12 hours

When 24 would be better

 

Still I refuse to finish this poem

Without something bright and hopeful

And I know I'm doing a horrible job

 
America has more poets

Than it does alcoholics

   And Pot smokers combined

And you chose me to be

Your Breast Cancer

Poet Laureate

Trusting me to write a poem

About the biggest battle in your life

 

And don't think

I didn't notice your Facebook activity

Had decreased by 88%

In the last three months

 

And you aren't really

Coming to any more of my poetry shows

Ever again. Are you??

But we still have January, February

 

And how do you write

A Breast Cancer poem

With no references to breast

(I get embarrassed)

 That would be some kind of Oxymoron

I guess

 

But even if you had one breast

Or no breast

or if you had less hair than I do

I promise to look only in your eyes

And never ever even notice

Or even think about it

And never for a moment

Would I feel sorry for you

Yes I suck at lying too...

 

But I don't suck at loving you

Or at hoping you wake up tomorrow morning

 With no Cancer at all

And that The Eiffel Tower will be right outside

Your bedroom window...

And I would be right there with you

Holding your hand while we look down on Paris

And you can impress me with your French again

 

And if I ever make it

To the Pulitzer Poetry board

I might lose a thousand points

Just for this poem alone

And my hopes for the prize will be smitten

And some old person with white hair will say

That this was the worst love poem ever written


Copyright © Poet M.e. | Year Posted 2016

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The Crossover - Collaboration with PD

The Crossover 
By Kim Patrice Nunez 
26 August 2015 


Come, let me join you in your world 
beyond the glow of crescent moon 
I won't be stopped by words you hurled 
my love enfolds you silent soon. 

I felt the anguish of your mind 
and heard of secret crimes you hide 
Turn not away, the truth let’s find 
You’re still alive, they thought you died. 

Healed of every sin from my life 
Entwined by death the heavens will subside 
In each soul resides purpose and strife 
Walking in a new world side by side 

In a world, making any kind of sacrifice 
I found forgiveness beyond the night 
By the gates, love waits in paradise 
Crossing over into the light. 


A Poet Destroyer Collaboration


Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

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PERCEPTION

   PERCEPTION

Before the abyss, I had it all
Letting go of all I see
My friend, I hope our time won't end
It took a short time for you to notice 
Without knowing who I am 
We talked, we became friends

Connecting the dots, missing every line
Connect them and figure me out
Randomly it comes your way
Underneath a never known chemistry
Ask me to stay and I may
Grinding your teeth into my way
Cut out my eyes, and store them up
A tongueless mouth, nothing to say

Maybe by tomorrow you will forget
Losing myself in my own conversation
Hiding behind my one big regret
Don't know, Don't care
You had me open up
A book I closed, knowledge lost

No need to see 
A mystery called deception
What I am cannot be seen with the naked eye
Along came you using your *ucked* up perception
The ability you miss use
making sense of this connection
A process you carry with your own  patterns
You asked, you listened,  without making assumptions
A taste to take off my shoulders, 
To release an error locked in my Asylum
I myself am enjoying the insights about him
He's got me convince, using his perception
               
  :)
SKAT


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010

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FORGOTTEN TREASURE

FORGOTTEN TREASURE

I've found the fountain of youth
When I stumbled across the forbidden garden
Right in the middle of everything
Was what I imagined being a wishing well
I at once tossed a quarter into the sea
Facing down, puzzled as can be
I peeked in to ensure where it fell
I tipped over and that's when I saw my vanity
It was sitting there waiting for me
The reflection was before this day and age
I thought, what could this be?
With one drop on my taste buds
I knew I found the one true key
The most beautiful thing that can set one free
I reached in to touch the poetry inside me

             SKAT


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010

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Make It Count

line count and word number are equal in this selection....

"Make It Count"
by:  Eric L. Boddie

A
Man may
Come to play
But if you say
Oh no baby, not today
Do you think he would stay
Or would he go so far away
In search of another lover he could lay
Doing everything associated with rolling in that infamous hay
And if push came to shove, maybe he would pay
To relieve all the stress stemming from your hips' distant sway
Because something must give, there are more than fifty shades of gray
That's common knowledge to the freaks and all those upon which they prey
And once you learn them all, I promise your lover will never ever stray
But if you miss just a single one, then you may experience that dreadful day
Where you lose it all so try to find True Love and remember to always Pray


Copyright © eric boddie | Year Posted 2015

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MY POEM, MY CHILD


Conception and perception swell 
til my poem is born, squalls at its own thin skin.  
Happiness! This is how art begins, a verse 
to nurse, to rock, as wonderment slowly opens. 

Soon, a stanza toddles, uncertain of where to go.
See the twinkle, the peek-a-boo dimple, the stubborn 
try-try again?  Hear the burble, the wail, 
the fumbling whimper, the haunting murmur?

The imp is mothered, though not smothered 
with too much affection or too much pride. 
Love urges exploration, evolution, 
as the poem grows, dares to climb and reach,

and though wayward, I kiss its uplifted cheek, 
send it to school, where great numbers 
will teach it a thousand concepts, a thousand 
possibilities; it may squirm on its seat,

scrape its knees, stammer, develop a crush,
stand all alone while the well-meaning ridicule,
then laugh at its own absurdity, bravely change,
rearrange itself without my permission

as it matures, outthinks me and leaves.
I gift it independence, never overprotect.
It will pack its bags and find a lonely reader,
who will circle words, add question marks,

a ridiculous curlicue, where there was none,
and six odd words will woo a highlighter,
a last line might be underscored,
beside it, a grumble,  Why isn’t there more?

The question will grow, far from the page.
The reader will awaken, pick up a pen,
and though I am dead, long forgotten,
my little poem might grow within him. 






Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan | Year Posted 2015

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PoetrySoup Heroes

The best advice came from my hero
since our very first days on the Soup,
he said to me ....be true to yourself
don't try to blend into the group.

When no one wants to write in rhyme
you told me ....write it anyway,
when no one wants to read rhyme,
you said to me ...write it anyway.

If this is your passion, why let it go
all opinions will be hit and miss,
poetry is not what others want you to do
only Heart and Soul make up the artist.

Did Poe try to follow the rest ...oh no
being unique makes any artist great,
perfection is what it is .....to you
only we can control the hand of fate.

So what if we are being a little archaic
by respecting those who came before,
the elders are remembered for a reason
they opened up the modern poet's door.

Thank you for teaching me to believe
because back then I just didn't see,
the talent, the potential, the poet
... that you somehow saw in me.










I have many Poetry Soup heroes....

but this poem is for Chan Hurst, "Just That Archaic Poet" ....RIP


Written on November 10th, 2015





Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015

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Gaining Perspective

Looking at the vast azure sky, one can't help, but feel small;
as crowds of ants run in terror of cathedral-sized Converse.
I left sugar cubes next to their hill, feeling purposefully big.


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2015

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The Poet

The Poet

Tribute to
Tim Smith @ Poetrysoup.com

Seeking inspiration
in the darkness of the night.
He listens to the shadows
to give him words to write.

A longing somewhere in the wind
a broken heart cries out.
It's captured his attention,
now's not the time to doubt.

He listens to a love gone wrong
he hears the teardrops fall.
Still he cannot turn away
until he's heard it all.

It speaks to him of anguish
and of a broken will.
He feels a soul begin to bleed
but he listens still.

When silence again finds him
in the shadows of the night.
He speaks for the voiceless
within the words he'll write.

Sending hope and faith and love
on wings of butterflies.
He reaches out to broken souls
then he helps them rise.

For deep inside he holds a key
though many may not know it.
The way to mend a broken heart
is the heart inside the poet.

Edwin C Hofert 


Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015

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Unraveling Self-Esteem

When you were born...
a gift you received.
Invisible knitting needles...
can you believe?

The yarn started out white,
then you added the the colors...
depending what happened
as you reacted to others.

You are the creator of your own scarfs design,
It's based on life's lessons...
let's keep that in mind.

The longer the scarf...
the warmer you feel,
as the cold winds of defeat...
are right on your heels.

The negative remarks that get you to question,
your value in life...
may I offer a suggestion?
Start knitting yourself in the opposite direction,
just ask God for help and his loving protection.

Good thoughts of self will make your scarf grow.
At the end of your life...
the results they will show.

With each negative belief...
your scarf will start to unravel.
One can not go back...
for there is no time travel.

You are the knitter...
so It's all up to you...
believe in yourself...
and to yourself always be true.

                P.R.Deremer


Copyright © Pam Deremer | Year Posted 2015

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Pessimist or Optimist

When young I heard the glass was either ½ empty or ½ full But with time I learned… to believe either one makes you a fool My health made me battle from the almost empty place But I came to see that… your life is not a glass or a race I always worked to fill my cup to the ½ full point… and beyond To compare my life to others always made the pessimist spawn Optimist or pessimist is more than some kind of… point of view They are each an integral part of what makes you… you The pessimist is a part of everyone’s make up… that can make us give up The optimist is an acquired trait… that has to be constantly built upon Fight the pessimist who can bring you nothing but sadness and despair Nurture the optimist that gives you the chance… to do and go anywhere The optimist can give you self-respect and the chance to do great things It can make your heart and your soul soar… and to grow great wings It’s a way of life that can add to your existence and also others Which way of life, you cultivate, says how much, you’ll see of life’s wonders You see: Your cup is never ½ empty or ever ½ full… Life is a work in progress So never give up… Look for ways, in this world, to bless And why let anything stop you? It is a hard fight, to some times win... But will be very gratifying… if you keep trying… until the end. Written by Carol Eastman 11-7-2015


Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2015

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tribute five

"Please Allow Me to Speak for Him"
by:  Eric L. Boddie

Strength is boundless within his words
In the hearts of many, he should be heard
Lent me his pen one time in the past
Even his dark stuff reveals the awesome skill he has
Nothing can destroy a heart that's really pure
The Answer Is Christ, The Only Known Cure

Once He Arrives, everything makes sense
Nothing but his pen can get that intense
Each selection I have read makes me more appreciate what his pen invents


Copyright © eric boddie | Year Posted 2015

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Calling all poets

Wake up, wake up, wake up I say.
There are words for you to find
And your poem is yet to get an end.

You slept for too long,
Some words are now long gone.
Others though still hanging in paintings,
Have lost their meanings.
Did you not heed my warnings. 

Quickly, quickly now
Let me show you how,
While we still have time and your feelings 
Are still living things.
 
Help save the words and their meanings
But you must use them now.
Abuse them if you must,
But go easy on the lust.
Humour them or wet them with your tears,
While others still have ears.
Whip them if you must,
But don't leave too much dust.
Just get them in line, 
While we still have time.
I promise you they will shine for other eyes,
Even if you lie.

There, there don't pull out your hair,
We are nearly there.
You will soon breathe more lightly here.

You have the words in your heart now,
Your soul is soaring now,
Words are pouring back in now,
Their meanings now on show,
For everyone to know

Take out your polishing cloth
It's time for truly beautiful words to come forth
and show their true worth.

The words are back in focus now.
The canvas's are freshly painted now.
Just take time to remember, that the new member,
Encouraged by the old, will let more words unfold,
So their meanings can be told.

There will be no more lamenting,
The words we lost while we were sleeping.
Only new words in numbers beyond counting
With meanings in greater number
To give us such wonder,
As we awaken from our slumber.


Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2016

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of love of war

of love of war
the staff of a prophet, seen fairness not imagine, sings shouting out, obscenity recognized, yet in search of fame, seeking stance the moment arises, seek of voice of power, godsend renown supremacy, yet prophet not acknowledged, kept desire of a great life, sought skill of voice, articulate hardly ever, cheek no longer free, famous self seldom bite snarls dogma, link of country of faith, kinship all that’s true, fair play desired fame acknowledged, pent the home front, covetousness war or peace love or hate, just yelp puppy love, nice _________________________| Penned on September 28, 2014!


Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

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A good night wish

As I lay here to sleep
I have thoughts of someone far away.
Holding them close to my heart
So the pain will go away.
We smile but so far away
how to see it until I dream.
Wish I was a great eagle
so I could soar upon the breeze 
and land close to her side .
The nights would be filled with joy
as we walked side by side
talking about life as I gaze into her eyes.
Through her eyes I see the scars
soneobe left behind
which only be healed by time.
We could dance the night away 
if we were side by side
but I can only dream
of this enchanted angel 
that is so far away.


Copyright © Michael Byte | Year Posted 2014

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My Perfect Story

The Perfect Story


Ingredients.... My Epic Melody!

 
I spread my wings, 

To carry you into that perfect ride.

Allowing you to communicate with my mind.

I'll show you what my perfect story would have in it.

With the world's enigma not everyone can find.

Words twisted with reality and beauty divine

The majestic ways to live with fairy tales combined.

Show no weakness towards the mercy of my gift.

Unleash the lightning, leaving all competition behind.

Pierce every word with my gleaming eyes.

You'll find yourself in the ebony of the blind.

A space passing every constellation with no regrets of return.

Assault the moment of the mind with the perfect line..

Expect pain, love, death, and desires that burn.

A trap for the follower to sink in.

Losing yourself to the evil garden underneath the green fern. 

Falling in love with the mental link of my imagination.

Rising from the ashes that killed every demon in my nations.

Rescued by the light of he who rode the wind of fate.

Breaking an oath to give every perfect story a-

 "HAPPY ENDING!"

 
~SKAT~


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2011

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Patience

Patience

Here is irony.
Patience waits for no one.
We must wait for it. 
It decides how long we must walk or sit.

Patience to wait.
Patience when it seems to be too late.
Patience when happiness plans to elate.
Patience in its most perfect state.

Patience to get the job done.
Patience to walk when we must walk.
Patience to run when we must run.
Patience to be silent when there is 
a never-ending urge to talk.

Patience to live.
More patience than we wish to give.

Patience,
Oh yes, relentless patience.

Patience when pain has taken center stage.
Patience when anger has turned to rage.
Patience to keep writing one more page.

Patience is a virtue.
We all know it's true.

Patience.
Oh yes, relentless patience.


Copyright © Princess Poetry | Year Posted 2014

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Serendipity Of Souls

Revealed in that ancient place
where roses become stone and lips dry as dead bone,
the ruins of love my home, hopeless heart shown damp as sorrow known,
rubble etched with tears of deceased romance, a barren face,
my hourglass of power tilted by a hand rough as sand,
body aching for velvet confection, soul suplicant for a loving land,
age dulling the dream for a companion champion, stifling the search,
venturing daily into the world of common hazard and animal angst
standing, fighting, surviving and creating alone, an eagle with no nest,
the sky infinite in distance, sea always pushing my vessel back to fortified beach,

Unexpected like beauty in hunting eyes
you arrived in my life's arena like a veteran of volatile virtue,
speaking as if prepared to die for desire, moving with mischevious fire,
you were my vulnerable Angel, most passionate pulse with carnivorous cries,
we consoled one another when truth seemed cold and trust had narrow view,
offering me the pinnacle pleasure of a Lady's plush rush, I became the love rider,
your flesh, a sanctuary of sexual salvation, your blood, the spirit of immortal rose
Divine Intervention guided you to me, and I to you, together the meaning of love grows

J.A.B.


Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2014

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You Can Hug Anyone You Want To

(This poem was inspired by my friend's grandma who said, and I quote, "You can hug anyone you want to." I dedicate it to all the sweetie poets who give "hugs.")


You can hug anyone you want to.
It's something everyone can do.

(There are many reactions from one act.
Proceed with caution so you don't get smacked.)

You can hug any way you like.
Keep it loose, or grab 'em tight.

Hug with a manly guttural noise,
or hug like a lady with grace and poise.

Sometimes just one hand will do.
Hug the way that best suits you.

Hug to ward off tears and sorrow.
Hug like you're going to die tomorrow.

Hug sister Suzy. Hug uncle Al.
Hug anyone to make a new pal.

Hug 'em big. Hug 'em small.
Hug 'em one. Hug 'em all.

Hug 'em in a group or two by two,
so the pleasure's not all about you.

Hug with a spin. Even make it an art.
Just make sure you hug with your heart.

It's as simple as a shoulder shrug.
Everybody could use a hug.

You can hug anyone you want to.
Watch your back, cuz I might hug you.


Copyright © Juliet Ligon | Year Posted 2013

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Cupcake Craving

Our granddaughter loves cupcakes.
Someday, she wants to run a cupcake business.
Someday, she wants to be a beautician.
Someday, she wants to specialize in makeup.
Someday, she wants to be a singer.
Someday, she wants to be a songwriter.
Someday, she wants to go to college.

I’m voting for number one 
and number seven.
I love cupcakes.
If she goes to college, 
her cupcake business might succeed.

You go, girl!



Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

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BALANCING THE SENSES




This sitting takes me to an attic of raw light bestowing foams of quiet glow for travelers unyielding to a precise compass of direction, a spaceless space nourished as it were, losing the self to Bodhi-like clouds and nomadic lotus spreads. I release this soul buried in the kundalini to a congregation of ambient tunes saying nothing, taking flight unto a hymn of unknown obedience moved by elemental balance: no more weight or cities divided, united by forms of one, one core. My malleable flesh dissolves into tiny breaths; it comes and leaves with floating grace ascending the next chi , as I go deep, deeper… high, higher centering second, fourth, seventh chakra until this my body- mind- spirit marries in a ceremony of calm traversing zones unnamed by time, one with all senses, bliss or regrets… the airiness of journeying through this unshaped season fed by something unbidden in my life so blessed. I step outside my body, somewhere… without a trace that realms chop my head, searching for a mantra of stars… stillness fed.
* chi – life energy * kundalini--a force which ordinarily rests at the base of the spine. *chakras-major centers of spiritual power Roy Jerden’s Religious Poetry: Non-Christian Buddhism 10/18/2014


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014

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Words Of Wisdom To My Child

You grow so fast, already showing glimpse of awesome creativity and transform discoveries from the industrious nature of your observations so squat at my feet and raise your attentive head up high to be equipped for this compulsory journey oh sweet creature of my seed. My hands of your molding and chastisement are already the processing engine of your refinement my strong willed mind and love soaked heart complete the stages as you hold steadfast to the train I’ve prepared for you Listen attentively as I perform this segment of my duties and lets take a tour round the routes of wisdom and gallivant the landscape of experience while I pedal your feet and smoothen your soles Seasoned flavored virtues are an armour through which life’s shots are overcomed and a colourful behaviour becomes a saviour in times of need Labor not your whole life in chasing vapour for out of vigour, flour is made from wheat, Bread from flour, but all for a time of enjoyment and satisfaction Guilty syndrome is exhibited when a person answers unasked questions and don’t force out jokes from your head or else people will think your sense of humor is on a life support Sunset is no accuse for the clock to stop running ad infinitum thus, an excuse is like a punctured umbrella it’ll still not stop the invasion of raindrops Your natural desires are borderless, but your ability to strongly control them is what makes you distinct from other species in the animal kingdom Love has no prefix, suffix or adjective it is what it is and as powerful as causing natural instincts to be abdicated in favour of kindness just for the carnivore to embrace abstinence. He who begins a tale becomes its reference don’t say what you cannot defend in court rumour is a bad odour which spreads beyond the neighbourhood and puts a noisy siren on your personality Bad companionship will lead you to the garbage and corrupt friends will join others to marvel at the immortality of your adopted stupidity Wash your face every morning with these words and take your every meal with these lines then would they be spices to which your life is preserved.


Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2015