Pg poems

Heart to heart, Slowly read. As we look at the sad picture of life,  We see the sad breaking of people, Where humans, once full of life, Become unknown after being used up by the relentless  march of time. A tragic dance unfolds as one’s reputation, meticulously   built, Succumbs to the eroding hands of forgetfulness.   In this sad truth, a friend once lived, A tireless artisan in the realm of education. He was at the school from morning till night, A quiet builder trying to make the place better.  But his giving ups, like quiet sounds in the air, Were not heard, nor seen by those he wanted to help.   A beautiful soul, Joy was his appellation, Adorned the stage of existence. A workmate, a beacon of morality, and a friend to all, He left traces of smiles wherever his footsteps echoed.  Little did he fathom that his smiles, radiant as they were, Would be overshadowed by the ephemeral nature of  app...

Heart to heart, Slowly read. Being a follower means depending on the opinions of your leader, Being a leader means thinking for yourself. However, did you know that a leader’s thoughts can be misleading? Regardless of how charming and well-spoken their speeches are, When oil spills on the ground, the followers all fall?   It is sage to rely on your own judgment And not allow uncertainty to skew your thinking. Allow humanity to remain hidden in your heart, And only think morally and speak divinely. Behave and think as one who is trying to find peace.     Wealth can be tempting at times, But my dear acquaintances, put humanity first.   People will respect you for it as a leader, And our all-loving Father God will reward you.   Exploiting the poor leads to a curse that lasts for generations. However, helping the underprivileged brings blessings. Because nobody knows why nature created the social classes; Only God does. ...

Heart to heart, Slowly read. A time will come when we are old and gray, A chip off the old block, they’ll call us someday. They’ll say we’re wise, a flattering name, But wisdom and age don’t always mean the same.   We’ll sit on rocking chairs, our bodies at ease, We’ll tell our grandkids stories, their curiosity to please. We’ll pour our wisdom to the village, our legacy to share, But all will depend on one simple fact: what we have left to spare.   They say, ‘enjoy your youth, cry at old age,’ But youth can be a trap, a reckless stage. If we spoil ourselves with pleasures, we’ll end up with a crowd, Too many mouths to feed, too many cries too loud.   But if we tend our fields with care, and water them with love, We’ll reap a bountiful harvest, a blessing from above. We’ll have enough to live on, and enough to give away, We’ll bless our old age with joy, and not with dismay.   When it comes to our brains, we should sharpen t...