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Poem

They say, “Work harder, hustle more,”
like your value depends on how fast you move,
like success only counts if you're always racing.
But what if the race isn’t real?
What if going slow is just you learning how to fly?

Slow isn’t lazy—it’s thoughtful.
It’s like the roots of a strong tree,
growing deep and steady, not blowing around like dust.
It’s not weakness—it’s wisdom in motion.
It’s choosing not to break under pressure—
that’s real strength.

They say you’re “falling behind,”
as if life is a race with a finish line.
But who made the rules?
Who said faster is better?
Truth is, strength isn’t in speed—
it’s in knowing when to pause,
and proudly saying:
“I carry big dreams, and that’s why I take my time.”

The world loves loud success—the spotlight, the sprint,
the “look how fast I made it!”
But you?
You’re like the ocean tide—calm, deep, unstoppable.
You don’t owe anyone an apology
for needing a breath, a break, a moment.

Let them get it wrong.
Let them call it “lazy,”
when really—it’s unshakable.
You’re not a machine—you’re a heartbeat.
And heartbeats?
They follow their own rhythm.

Slow is not lazy.
It’s courage.
It’s self-respect.
It’s trusting your path,
and refusing to let the world rush you
into becoming something you’re not.

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