SHALLY A.

  I don’t want to die Stuck in the shelves of books never read Driving the routine of life I never stopped to learn A life time of hours at a job I detested A period possessed by trails, I forgot happiness A religious belief that some human is the enemy ............   I don’t want to die Like a tree withered by anger and neglect, because its soul resists to shed dead leaves A walled heart never smiling carelessly,  never loving stupidly – very stupidly   ........... An ‘I do’   life,  devoid of unconditional love devoid of hope and faith, it dies with distrust A spectator in awe,  watching the DSTV of others lives   .............   A limited world not seeing, tasting and never listening No beautiful sights, new culture  or amazing discoveries A life of the conquered  letting the world beat my dreams out my will fail  ...........

Waiting for the rickety bus to deliver me to my destination, my delivery time was fast approaching. The walking dead bus forcefully stops; I climb in, walk close to the window and sit down. I stick my head out – I’m dreaming of a better life – a life flowing with the swiftness of dancing, the steadiness of peace, and simplicity of hope. I dream on. Absently, I turn my hilariously hanging head with hope, when she jumps in. She slowly slides and stiffens beside me, holding her son firmly on one leg and her gigantic bag on the other. I notice her hands.  These big hands are sorely black, lined with use, squeezed from the wear and tear of hours and hours of work; strengthened by the weight of carriage, paled from the life of wash and ware. I wonder, what’s her story? Did her husband treat her hands with care? They desperately needed his support. Her palms told me they had carried sons, daughters, chores and life itself. Her face, strangely, bore little evidence...

by Shally A. Sometimes scared Sometimes full of faith Sometimes in the air This too shall pass, I hear I must learn to persevere So unsure Striving to stay alive Hoping I’ll survive Stand.  The wave’s splash along My terror screams “ Lord! Open my eyes, guide my lifes' lines” Stand. I had hoped by now Your arm would have saved my drown The tides toss me around Slitting deep, till red fires gush out You whisper, STAND This too shall pass It takes time to build a corporate work of art. It takes time to build a life. And it takes time to develop and grow. So give yourself, your enterprise, and your family the time they deserve and the time they require, persevere- Jim Rohn.