{"id":3373,"date":"2025-07-29T14:37:10","date_gmt":"2025-07-29T14:37:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/?p=3373"},"modified":"2025-07-29T14:37:15","modified_gmt":"2025-07-29T14:37:15","slug":"a-soul-built-very-strong-from-a-broken-stone","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/a-soul-built-very-strong-from-a-broken-stone\/","title":{"rendered":"A soul built very strong from a broken stone."},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p>Mum died when I was just six years old,<br>Her arms still warm but turning cold.<br>She left behind more than her name<br>A newborn brother, fragile, unnamed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Two weeks old, he barely knew her face,<br>Yet in his cry, I felt her grace.<br>I wiped his tears with trembling hands,<br>A child myself, yet trying to stand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>They took us to the village, no lights, no sound,<br>Just broken dreams on dusty ground.<br>Dad was there, but hollowed and worn,<br>Carrying grief that couldn&#8217;t be mourned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>There was no money, no steady meal,<br>But pain too raw for time to heal.<br>We learned to smile through aching cheeks,<br>And hope in silence, week by week.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Still, I clung to Dad, though he looked away,<br>Lost in debts he couldn\u2019t pay.<br>He tried, oh God, he tried so hard,<br>But life had stacked the deck, and barred.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Then 2021 came knocking loud,<br>With coughs and fear and funeral shrouds.<br>COVID stole him quiet and fast,<br>Just like Mum, he couldn&#8217;t last.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Now orphaned fully, with none to call,<br>No \u201cMum\u201d or \u201cDad\u201d to break my fall.<br>Just me and memories, thin and small,<br>And a baby brother too young to recall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I grew up fast, with scars unseen,<br>Between scraped knees and shattered dreams.<br>But somehow in the dark I knew,<br>God had not forgotten too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>So here I stand, I still survive,<br>The orphaned heart that stayed alive.<br>And though I cry when no one sees,<br>I carry love through memories.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Because I am made of those I&#8217;ve lost,<br>And though they left, I bear the cost.<br>Yet in their absence, I have grown,<br>A soul built strong from broken stone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Some nights I whispered to the skies,<br>Asking God, the when and why.<br>Sometimes no answers came, just stars and air,<br>Yet somehow, I felt He heard me there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Now I walk, not whole, but true,<br>With pain behind and purpose renewed.<br>Because every loss carved space inside,<br>Therefore, courage, faith, and grace now show.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/the-painful-genuine-cry-of-a-teacher-who-is-hurt\/\">THE PAINFUL CRY OF A TEACHER by walking shadow poetry<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/share\/p\/12KjEkgNZ4Q\">https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/share\/p\/12KjEkgNZ4Q<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-embed is-type-video is-provider-youtube wp-block-embed-youtube wp-embed-aspect-16-9 wp-has-aspect-ratio\"><div class=\"wp-block-embed__wrapper\">\n<iframe title=\"MOTHERS ARE A BLESSING SPOKEN WORD BY WALKING SHADOW POETRY | POETESS | POEM\" width=\"500\" height=\"281\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/9wWwBU8utIQ?feature=oembed\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share\" referrerpolicy=\"strict-origin-when-cross-origin\" allowfullscreen><\/iframe>\n<\/div><\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Mum died when I was just six years old,Her arms still warm but turning cold.She left behind more than her nameA newborn brother, fragile, unnamed. Two weeks old, he barely knew her face,Yet in his cry, I felt her grace.I wiped his tears with trembling hands,A child myself, yet trying to stand. They took us [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3375,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[121,97,25,98],"tags":[35,49,34,67,50,61,55,53,22,48],"class_list":["post-3373","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poem","category-poetry","category-solitude","category-storytime","tag-poems","tag-poetess","tag-poetry","tag-preciousowoko","tag-spokenword","tag-spokenwords","tag-stories","tag-story","tag-walkingshadowpoetry","tag-walkingshadowpoetrykenya"],"aioseo_notices":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/07\/9c594a56c4aa22af7082a42818038121.jpg?fit=736%2C1104&ssl=1","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":3313,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/why-every-student-deserves-to-be-seen-spoken-word\/","url_meta":{"origin":3373,"position":0},"title":"Why Every Student Deserves to Be Seen Spoken Word","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"June 10, 2025","format":false,"excerpt":"He sat in the back.Not because he liked it there...But because it hurt less to be ignoredThan to be noticed and torn apart. They called him slow.Said he was a waste of chalk,A sentence that couldn\u2019t end,A question mark that never made sense.So they punished himFor not being what they\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;poem&quot;","block_context":{"text":"poem","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/poem\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/06\/IMG_1676-scaled.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/06\/IMG_1676-scaled.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/06\/IMG_1676-scaled.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/06\/IMG_1676-scaled.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/06\/IMG_1676-scaled.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":3477,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/africa-is-loud-and-silent-on-painful-cases\/","url_meta":{"origin":3373,"position":1},"title":"AFRICA IS LOUD AND SILENT ON PAINFUL CASES","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"December 5, 2025","format":false,"excerpt":"They say Africa is loud,our drums, our laughter, our colors.Yet when certain wounds appear,the whole community is made quiet.Pain is pushed under rugs,and suffering is hidden in phrases like\u201cHaya mambo ya familia.\u201d Violence is kept close,shielded by culture,protected by silence. A boy is molested by the house help,but he is\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;poem&quot;","block_context":{"text":"poem","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/poem\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/img.youtube.com\/vi\/14d4zTC7G_Y\/0.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":3439,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/when-love-became-a-battlefront\/","url_meta":{"origin":3373,"position":2},"title":"When Love Became a Battlefront","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"October 19, 2025","format":false,"excerpt":"By: Walking Shadow Poetry \/ Precious Owoko Chapter One: A Church BeginningThey met in the most unexpected yet purest place, church. He was active in the worship team, always the first to arrive for practice and the last to leave after ensuring every microphone was back in place. She served\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;storytime&quot;","block_context":{"text":"storytime","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/storytime\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"WALKINGSHADOWPOETRY","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/0L2A9247-scaled.jpg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/0L2A9247-scaled.jpg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/0L2A9247-scaled.jpg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/0L2A9247-scaled.jpg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":3392,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/bridge-of-redemption-book-by-precious-owoko\/","url_meta":{"origin":3373,"position":3},"title":"Bridge of Redemption book by Precious Owoko.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"August 11, 2025","format":false,"excerpt":"Sunlight poured through the stained-glass windows, spilling warm colors across the quiet church. Meanwhile, the soft creak of wooden pews echoed faintly as people shifted in their seats. In the front row, Daniel knelt, his head low and his fingers locked so tightly that his hands ached. 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He was known for his slyness and wit. However, there was something that troubled Felix. He held onto grudges and found it difficult to forgive others. One sunny day, as Felix was strolling through the\u2026","rel":"","context":"In \"poems\"","block_context":{"text":"poems","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/WalkingShadowPoetryKenya\/poems\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"photo of fox sitting on ground","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-2295744.jpeg?fit=820%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-2295744.jpeg?fit=820%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-2295744.jpeg?fit=820%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-2295744.jpeg?fit=820%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2364,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/the-healing-journey-of-sarah\/","url_meta":{"origin":3373,"position":5},"title":"The Healing Journey of Sarah.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"June 21, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"Sarah had always believed in love. 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