7 Delay will steal your precious hours, And leave you with a heavier load. Each moment lost will dim your powers, And slow your footsteps on the road. Begin before your will grows thin— The race is only lost within. 8 The world may shout what must be done, But rules alone can't make life true. What works for most won’t fit just one, So write the script that speaks for you. There is...

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1 No moment ever stays the same, Each phase of life will shift and pass. Seek meaning, not in fleeting fame, But in the trials we must surpass. Take from each day the truth it lends— For all begins and all soon ends. 2 The past is gone, its weight is spent, Tomorrow’s path is still unclear. Your only stage is this present— The time to act is always here. Let old regrets be laid to ...

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I’ve sipped from empty cups too long, Been told to wait, to play it safe, To shrink my voice, to just belong— But silence never saved the brave. They fed me crumbs, called it enough, Said, “Be polite, don’t reach too far,” I smiled through hunger, swallowed tough, And wore my limits like a scar. No mo...

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When tempers flare and voices rise,
It’s wise to breathe, not moralise.
A quiet word can cool the flame,
While shouting only spreads the blame.

When someone mocks or plays unfair,
Step back – don’t answer with a stare.
For digging traps for someone’s fall
Might lead you to your own downfall.

If rumours swirl and trust is thin,
Let honesty speak from within.
Your name is worth more th...

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David sat in his childhood room, the stack of letters trembling in his hands. Each one was a window into his mother’s heart—a heart he had taken for granted. Her words, so full of love and longing, cut through the years of silence between them.

He found a letter dated ten years earlier. It spoke of her hope to see him at Christmas. He hadn’t come that year. Another letter, written five years ag...

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Evelyn sat by the window, her frail hands clutching a pen. Outside, snow blanketed the empty street, muffling the world in silence. The house was still except for the faint ticking of a clock, marking moments that felt too long and too short all at once.

She stared at the blank sheet of paper on the desk before her. For years, she'd written to her son, David. She’d sent birthday cards, Christma...

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His words could become sharp as corners

And trap you there

Flailing in his grasp

They could pinch your skin

Until you cried

And cried

Throughout your shifts

They could catch your wrists and stop you

From moving on

From moving

They could lock the doors, no leaving

They could shame you and shrink you

They could come flying in from an open window,

A buzzing phon...

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