You can believe what you wish
but bad news is always heavier.
People ask you to make a wish
and choose what feels happier.
Still good is ever overwhelmed
by the bad already condemned.
Like the heavier are prominent;
lighter is always lost in content.
Honesty isn’t cruel,
it is exact and old.
But all lies are new,
unreal and so bold.
One lie begat more;
creating falsehood,
like a loving whore
in God’s priesthood.
I know a vegetarian Tiger,
it’s called the Ocean Sea.
It’s fearless in its hunger,
its anger is there to see.
It is only tame if it is fed;
only trusted when calm.
Only feeds those it held,
and never raises a palm.
Why make of beauty what it is not
or make falsehood the fact it is not?
Why call a name where it isn’t loved
or hate for reasons another is loved?
Why share in the logic for blind faith
then deny love it’s heartbeat or breath?
Why refuse to be forced to behave
but relish in the spoils cruelty gave?
Why make the most common sense,
rot away until it becomes nonsense?
Love is patient and love is kind;
doesn’t envy, it’s one of a kind.
It doesn’t boast, it isn’t proud.
Love does not dishonor others;
it isn’t self-seeking or ever loud.
It isn’t easily angered by others.
Love keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in any evil,
but rejoices with truthful tongues.
It always ever protects and is civil.
It always trusts and always hopes;
always perseveres, anyhow it goes.
1 Corinthians 13:4-8NIV
https://bible.com/bible/111/1co.13.4-7.NIV
You’re never too old to grow up;
you are never ever wise enough.
The reason why people grow up,
is for the passage, which is tough.
At the end, life is a passing thing
and it’ll always be like it has been.
Like many meals with everything,
life finishes like it has never been.
Most times we feel things,
and sense them well ahead.
Many times see these things
but don’t avoid them instead.
The signs will be there for all,
like we stumble before we fall.
Doubt stammered before it spoke,
like there’s fire where there’s smoke.
It’s always wise to understand
those who have a hold on you.
Always know where they stand,
for it is rarely always with you.
We all have some major desires,
even when they’re hidden in us.
Knowledge is gotten, dear sirs.
Wisdom is nurtured within us.
All is never ever as it is or well,
even in Satan’s strictest of hell.
There is always the weird sort,
who make of goodness a sport.
Gratitude is the right attitude;
it always gives some latitude,
that will lift the down trodden,
make out fertilizer of its rotten.
Once was a rich man
with a big spoiled family;
he lived an unhappy man.
He wrote his will
and he put in a pan,
stamped with his seal.
After he had died
his whole family met
to mourn and all cried.
His will unsealed
and then it’s torn up
as they merrily mealed.
Time crawls to us, not away;
and it catches up in our way.
We’re never its chasing park;
like a Wolf it finds our track.
That time waits for none of us,
is more true than we choose.
For it does edges towards us
and always ever looming close.
I am a dreamer,
not in my sleep.
I am the winner
in good upkeep.
Lurking so near
in my mind’s liar,
an unending tale
also fitting to tell.
All thoughts are,
only constructs.
But dreams are,
firm virtual forts.
Dreams carry on,
never do end later.
They’re once upon
and also ever after.
What’s man, what’s he about;
some mystery for figuring out,
or another thing that will rot?
Same man’s masterful reign,
growing in loudly seen fame,
repeatedly bursts in old pain.
At the end every single man
makes his wishes as he can,
not walk a fixed single plan.
Grown ups’ dream in sleep
likens children’s living faith.
Man’s thought is ever deep
like the child’s love is neat.
Trust has a short life time
that outlives only childhood.
Every man lives within crime
and children learn its mood.
Trust is fragile,
words are agile.
Time is limited,
the aged gifted.
All have ties,
everybody lies.
People are kitted
to be mean and vile,
loving but conceited.
When the mind’s worried
and the heart’s disturbed
sky turn mainly blue daily;
like oceans also too wavy.
Sun’s glow appears burnt,
moon makes a sad afront.
Lonely life looks abandoned,
its sojourn feeling condoned.
Sad and unhappiness is cold,
all things turn blue the world.
Home is where I am;
it isn’t anywhere else.
Home says who I am
and my current place.
Home always has me;
all of me, as I present.
Home ever keeps me;
in all my most recent.
Home has become me,
and keeps mine safest.
My home’s here to see;
most real in its truest
We can’t change what we can’t;
it’s a fact of life that outlive us.
No getting on or off as you want;
complain your wish, life is no bus.
Go with the flow of ticking time,
taking all the decisions you must.
Spend well your currency of time,
no change left when we die at last.
If you’re in love now;
at this very moment,
or you’ve ever loved
but it’s just not current
Then you’re lucky my friend
because not everyone loves.
Most think so and pretend.
Like breath everyone knows,
love comes and it goes
But remains as you choose.
Allow me to call your attention
to a most despicable situation.
One that people ever question,
but it’s only actually in reaction.
All alive extend their creation
with survival acts of procreation.
When choice create a situation
then crime is truly the abortion.
Admiring success from afar
is a very popular past time
which inspires him or her
who strives over time.
Be advised that success is;
not about luck or the man.
It’s simply behind him is
a stick and a woman.
Man’s best friend stays near;
always beside him and here.
Dark or bright as any mood;
happy and sad, bad or good.
True friends live your life too,
just as it is; all of it with you.
Always it is Yes she hints,
All smiles in sexy cosy winks.
So he doubles effort and sits
As her encouragement blinks.
He advances and she giggles,
She teases and he heats up.
Yet his matches remain singles
As her naked sainthood shuts up
Men are the price;
Women their prize.
Time the receiver;
Life, ultimate giver.
Living is a long race
Setting its own pace.
You start with a prize
before paying the price.
Inspired by @kelechi_eo
YasNiger™ 