Often times do tears drop
Like the blessing of rain
But frankly, it’s not rain
But a message from the soul and a plaintive heart
Which the mouth finds too heavy to outpour

Of times do the soul become so dismal and desolate
Remembering where we hail
Questioning one’s very existence
Of which the answer is nowhere

Often times do the thoughts of the mind run helter skelter
Questioning and wondering;
Why the mud hovel?
Why no good roof over the head?
Why share the same water bodies with animals?

But as it is seen as true that the existence
Is part of an intricate plan
A formation that existed before birth

In time’s will, shall everything unfold
But may we not be too early lifeless
Without changing the story line
Nor leaving our story untold

By Ethel Adika

"I will write what I love, and what I long for, in the hopes that for someone, it might be not only a way out, but a way in " - V. E. Schwab... I passionately write anything concerning humanity and today's globe which serves the needs and interests of my people. I'm a specialist in poetry, quotes and articles. "I build a world of fiction through the arts of the pen on the sheet so the the world can have solace, courage, an avenue of amelioration and change" - Ethel Adika

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