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Reputation is built and maintained,
Like an old buildings, it’s sustained;
not just by good strong foundations,
but by the durability of its convictions.
Witty Written Works
Reputation is built and maintained,
Like an old buildings, it’s sustained;
not just by good strong foundations,
but by the durability of its convictions.
Vision is relative to knowledge not sight.
Power is relative to resistance not might.
Distance, relative to destination not height.
Vision is relative to knowledge not sight.
Power is relative to resistance not might.
Distance, relative to destination not height.
Vision is relative to knowledge not sight.
Power is relative to resistance not might.
Distance, relative to destination not height.
“Men in those days had convictions;
we moderns only have our opinions.”
Back then they stepped up, had it done;
today we simply have a say on our phone.
Where are all those true women,
the women that birthed all men?
Cheer and celebrate your gender,
as biology identifies your member.
When loved ones die and pass on,
the empty pain we feel deep down
is the affection love we always had
struggling inside us, making us sad.
Whenever the older men think,
they reason in mental puzzles.
Many pieces to pick and link,
their logic drips and drizzles.
Mother is our earth and its waters;
surely we hold on, for she matters.
But we burden her with our refuse;
her warmth we’ve grown to abuse.
Bearded replace clean shaven men.
Grown up men trying to be women.
Coupled girls adopting cup babies.
Mop head models in baggie patties.
I get it, signs of every time changes,
but these’re headaches in trenches.
If you’re looking for something
and yet always finding nothing,
maybe there is actually nothing,
and you so want to find anything.
Mountains were dragons that died
and like the earth, they were stilled.
To hold the sky up their forms rose,
like ancient pillars in gigantic pose.
Ever wondered if you are in control;
of all what you see, hear, eat or troll?
With the world a village in our hand,
do we choose or follow just any band?
From the depth of hateful bowels
comes forth destructive old tales.
The gates of Hell gets flung open
when madness does roam often.
The time is always right, to do right;
because what’s right is always right.
While the way of wickedness grinds,
all that of righteousness ever binds.
The moon is fighting but does not win.
It is not that it is small for this reason,
or that the Sun is its rival on a mission?
It is how earth sees things in the open.
Art isn’t as personal as it is emotional
and artist’s painful effort is intentional.
Their talent gives so easily but teases
and artists loneliest when art pleases.
Work might define a person
but it doesn’t tell their story.
Daily strides each a reason,
everyone’s life is their story.
What is wrong changes over time,
because anything changes in time.
World will change most folks good;
few people would change for good.
The walls have ears and they share,
they will carry tales far without fear.
Deepest room can never hide that,
which its walls reveals in their craft.
Who is your boogie man, my friend,
the scary man you see in the night?
With your eyes closed at day’s end,
what worst bit of you do you sight?