It wasn’t real, that connection you held up like something rare. It was only your restless emptiness reaching outward, never inward where truth lived. There was something in you, a rare kind of wrongness, not loud, but steady, growing in the quiet corners You refused to clean. Your habits sank deep, roots of neglect and excuse, feeding on your comfort, tightening around any chance of becoming better. Inside your chest, something lingered, not wounded, but slowly rotting from everything you chose not to face. Your words carried weight, but not wisdom, dirty with judgment, falling on others as if they owed you effort You would never give yourself. You dreamed wildly, expected greatly, Yet moved nowhere. Laziness sat in you like spring, fresh, alive, growing stronger each day You chose not to change. And so you became a tree, Not shaped by storms, but by stillness. Not broken, but unused. A tree that stands alone, roots deep in wasted time, branches stretched with empty wants, leaves gree...
You laugh at them.
You point your finger and call them a fool.
Their silence amuses you,
their gentleness becomes your joke,
and the crowd joins your laughter
as if kindness were weakness.
It feels enjoyable today,
sweet on your tongue like careless victory.
Their patience becomes your stage,
their humility your entertainment.
But time is a quiet witness.
It watches without speaking,
It writes its lessons slowly
in the turning pages of life.
A day will come
When laughter turns into tears.
The echoes of your mockery
will return to your own ears
like thunder across an empty sky.
Situations will arise without warning,
storms without hands to beat you
Yet heavy enough to break your pride.
Pain will arrive quietly,
And you will feel the trembling
of a heart that once laughed too loudly.
And that fool,
that funny person you once mocked,
may stand in the distance,
not laughing,
but witnessing your tears,
your shaking voice,
Your falling ego.
For life has a patient way
of bending the tallest pride.
It turns arrogance into reflection,
and loud laughter into silent regret.
Remember this:
Today you stand tall in pride,
but tomorrow life may whisper
a different story.
For life, in its quiet wisdom,
has a way of humbling us all. πΏ
© 2026 Gloria Penelope
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