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 p...
Lower your voice We are not your mates. This is not your house, and your echo does not own the walls. Your pride towers beyond measure, standing where humility never learned to breathe. You wear power like a weapon, swinging it in every room you enter, mistaking fear for respect. Your pride is loud, loud like violence not always striking, but always threatening. It bruises the air, forces silence to bow. Power has fooled you, convinced you that command is character, That volume is authority, that dominance is destiny. Do not teach us that the world is brutal because you choose to be. Cruelty is not nature; It is a decision you make daily. Lower your voice. Strength does not shout. True power stands still, and needs no one to kneel. © 2026 Gloria Penelope