Tag: poetess
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No one is to be blamed for your healing
I once carried many excuses. They felt comfortable. They sounded reasonable. I told myself life would have been different If my parents had done better. I believed my background had already decided my limits. I blamed friends for choices that later became my regrets. Those thoughts stayed with me for years. They felt like protection.…
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Pain and pressure is a must in life
I used to have excuses. Plenty of them. To say, If my parents had done better… If my background was different… If my friends had supported me… And for a long time, those reasons sounded good in my head. But time has a way of sitting you down and speaking the truth you kept avoiding.…
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The Powerful painful Pressure Before the Wallet
There is a quiet pressuresitting on the shoulders of many young people today.Not loud enough to make headlines,but heavy enough to bend backsthat are still learning how to stand. Because somewhere along the journeybetween finishing schooland learning how to survive in the real world,a responsibility arrived early.Too early. You graduate with hope in your hands,but…
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The Raw Truth About Life’s Unfair Turns.
Listen… sometimes life just / happens. Not because you were wrong. Not because you were bad. Not because you didn’t pour every ounce of sweat, every late-night prayer, every shattered hope into it. You showed up, You fought. You gave it your all and still the door slammed. Still, the call never came. Still the…
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Bitter truth: Live Fully Before It’s Too Late.
I’ve been watching Ngeno’s last moments… and all I can do is sigh. One second you are smiling wide, Laughing from memes and posts, Replying to comments and calls, Making bookings like tomorrow is promised. The next second… time isn’t yours anymore. Death doesn’t negotiate, It doesn’t text ahead. It doesn’t wait until you’ve fixed…
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I deeply care about you, but am tired
Every time we sit down,the air changes. Not because I don’t want to listen,but because I already knowwhere the conversation will go. It begins softly.Then slowly,it returnsto the day everything was taken from you. I watch your face when you speak.It tightens in places you pretend are fine.Your eyes travel somewhere far,somewhere I cannot follow.…
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The One Who Lost, “This Is Why I Speak”
You may thinkI don’t notice the pattern. The way my voice lowerswhen I bring them up.The way the room grows quietwhen I start telling it again. Trust me, I know. But there is something you must understand. When someone who shaped your worldsuddenly vanishes,the silence they leave behinddoes not stay quiet. It echoes. And sometimesthe…
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The crying, very painful moment of men
Who listens to the cries of the fatherswho bury their wives and go hometo children still calling out, “Dad?” Who holds the man who must be strong at the funeral,strong in the living room, strong at the dinner table,when all he wants is to fall apart without frightening the little eyeswatching him? Who listens to…
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Deep Frustrations and pain in life
They say the toast burnt for a reason. That moment you stood in the kitchen,staring at blackened bread,annoyed,running late,wondering why the smallest thingsalways choose the worst time to fail you. You scrape it, or throw it away,or make another slice, muttering under your breath. But that delay, that small, unwanted pause,changes everything. Because maybe the…