A Poet’s Cry

What Happened to the Wisdom of Old?
Who will share the stories of the past?
How will we learn from the wise ones who last?
The elders, with grey hairs full of knowledge and might,
Where are they now, in this modern light?
Our culture is fading, our traditions lost,
We’ve traded our heritage for technological cost.
We’ve welcomed progress, but at what expense?
Our values are crumbling, our youth’s innocence.
The grey hairs that once guided us on our way,
Now lead us astray, with corrupting sway.
They’ve introduced new names for their shameful deeds,
“Sugar daddies” and “mummies,” with money as their creeds.
They influence the young, with cash and material might,
Corrupting their minds and leading them into the night.
What happened to the wisdom of old?
Where are the elders, with hearts of gold?
We cry out for justice, for the grey hairs of old,
For the wisdom and knowledge that once made us bold.
Let us reclaim our heritage and cherish our past,
For the sake of our future and the wisdom that will last.

Trampled Rights, A Nation’s Lament

Inherited freedom, yet still we’re confined
A legacy of oppression, its weight defined
We fought for independence, for a republic’s pride
But now, in irony, we’re enslaved by those inside
The privileged few, with wealth and power might
Hold sway over the masses in a perpetual night
Their influence, a barrier we cannot transcend
A glass ceiling, impenetrable, our aspirations to amend
Pressure precedes pleasure, perplexity before leisure
A world where pain and sorrow, in darkness, we must measure
Yet, in this desolate landscape, a glimmer of hope appears
A whispered promise, a gentle breeze that calms our fears.
For in faith, a new dawn’s light; our lamentations will be heard one day, and freedom will be assured.

The Heart’s Lament

Why do you keep me in this state,
A half-life, half-death, an endless wait?
You’ve subjected me to poverty and pain,
Experiences that I’ll never forget, a constant refrain.
You set me ablaze, a burning fire,
Hurt me deeply, a wound that never tires.
How can I make you see, make you understand,
The agony I’m in, the pain that’s at hand?
You’ve shortened my lifespan, cut me short,
No more sweet life, just sweat and tears to report.
I’m troubled by my state, my well-being worn,
Oh, man, we were meant to walk and work as one, not torn.
I was meant to be your guide, your engine true,
But you’ve worked against me, with inventions anew.
The works of your hands, now our enemy, I see,
Oh, man, stop smoking; stop the drugs that harm me.
You’ve damaged me, destroyed my colleagues too,
I’m the heart, your motor engine; without me, what to do?
You’re the body, the moving motor; I’m the one who makes you go,
How will you move, operate if I’m not in the flow?
Say no to your inventions, man, and let’s live in harmony,
A good state, where we work together, a symphony.

echoes of the unforgotten

I walk the lonely path, alone with my thoughts
A inner dialogue where fears and doubts are brought
Too many imaginations, as I glimpse the unknown
Wishing, always wishing, as the shadows overgrow
The poor man’s riches lie in his deepest desires
A glory that’s elusive, like a shadow that retires
I tread the narrow bridge, built by ancient hands
The waters below whisper secrets of a world unplanned
The vibrations of the waves, a symphony of old
Echoes of forgotten tales, of myths yet untold
I hear the cries of creatures in the dark of night
Their whispers weave a tapestry of a world in plight
I walk with little fear, though my heart may quiver
We converse with ghosts, our voices barely heard
Our existence, a mere whisper, in the winds that have stirred
Life’s a cruel mistress, favoring some while others atone
The rich descend with the rich, while the poor are left to atone
Our voices, a cacophony, a noise, a mere din
We’re deemed weak, our words, a distant hum, a whisper within
Yet, our faith remains unbroken, our spirits unshaken
We hold on to hope, a glimmer, a light, unspoken
For when our time arrives, we’ll rise, we’ll shine
No longer envious about life, we’ll shatter the chains that bind
Once poor, no more, we’ll claim everything 
No longer regarded as failures, we’ll wear a new face
Life’s a journey; once arrived, enjoy and let the poor breath.

The Legacy I Leave

One day I’ll vanish, fade to gray
My deepest fears now start to stir
I walk to the window, gaze away
At life’s fleeting beauty, lost in a blur
The rising flower fades, the sun dips low
The birds depart, and I am left to know
That nothing lasts forever, all must fade
And I am left to ponder my own shade
Tears will fall, from friends, both true and fake
For in this world, death is celebrated, but life neglected.
What legacy will I leave behind?
Will my work speak for me, or will I be left to unwind?
Will I be like my old man, who left no mark?
Living his life with a water-like liquid that affected his system.
The new generation struggles to recall his spark
I wish he had fought his way through
And left a lasting legacy to be remembered of.
If tomorrow I leave, let my writings remain
And let the Life I live speak for me, long after I’m gone.