If you don’t fight for what is rightfully yours, you will end up living a life where the joy has been sucked and shared out by others, whilst you the owner look on in hopelessness. I am not talking about breaking the law and living with wild abandon. I am positing that you need to do what needs to be done. You need to take positive actions that will better your lot. You need to fight for your destiny. You need to execute and stop the endless jaw-jaw and rah-rah. Back your words with action. Don’t die in a job or career path that has become a trap of unhappiness and a pit despondency. You need to step out and do what you’ve always wanted to do and be what you have always wanted to be. You don’t need to die under the judgment of men. Stop being afraid of their criticisms. Stop looking at there faces seeking for their approvals. Too many people boast but never execute. They hate stuff going on, but their anger is castrated and can’t give birth to anything. Read this poem and be wise.
Beating the chest like an angry gorilla
Pounding the dust like a raging buffalo
Teeth bared like an offended tiger
Then tucking your tails in and running for the hills.
Beating the drums of war
Bellicose leading to the war
Braggadocious as the trumpet of battle is sounded
Then beating the retreat instead of hitting the street.
Makes you blame the forgotten yesterday
for the problems in your crippled today
Whilst doing nothing about the amorphous tomorrow
Welcome to the historiography of men whose legacy is to do nothing.
Makes men talk about history
When they ought to fight for the victory
That will move them out of misery
To the paradise of liberty.
Preferring unspoken rebuke instead of open confrontation
The heart is raging but the mouth is not moving
Groaning and moaning but doing nothing about their discomfort
A life full of unfixed issues stinking like an un-treated sore.
Making the treasure of wisdom a mockery
The versatility of knowledge a painful wastage
Wasting time pontificating instead of acting
Always afraid of rocking the boat or ruffling the feathers.
Now they have become crying victims and compliant fools
When a little valor could have made them the victor
Never wanting to upset others, their lives are beset with regret
It’s not their fault, they were bred to be sheep, not lion.
To read another Poem follow this link A king we must enthrone
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