You may not wage the war, but…

You may not wage the war.
But… let’s not forget,
this world itself
is a battleground.
Each one fights
… for space,
… to find his place,
… or leave her trace.
In this world,
the attacker swings
from the right …
or will hurl at you
from the left;
or hit you
from the rear …
or swing a blow,
straight at
your face.
Over time,
Life teaches you,
my friend, to
be cautious.
Be prepared…
There’s little choice…
get trampled upon…
or, hold your ground.
What’s your choice?

~ Pictowrit

Daughters… they’re special!

Daughters… why are they special?

Like dew drops, soothing.

A balm for your slightest pain

Crying silently,

She hides her tears

Fame with fortune for just one family…

Who’s that? Of course, your son

He carries your name…

Bringing respect-n-respectability to not one, but to two families;

Who do you think that is…  No doubt, your daughter!

Who may give up her name… embracing another

One’s no less than the other…

Your son’s the star, diamond-like… bright, shining

Your daughter’s the hidden pearl… elegant, her luster brilliant

Call it nature, be it fate, or the ways of this strange world,

Treading the ground strewn with thorns, she walks alone,

Tender, flower-like, calming to your eyes… that is your daughter.

No, this isn’t blank verse,

Search for no meter, no beat, nor rhythm in these words,

But they’re not empty, and there is a rhyme and reason

About why they’re written

A cup of crystal-clear water,

Or the morning dew drop,

When you’re down, or feeling downright low

You’ll pick up the phone

To call someone…

What’s there to think

Who do you have

On speed dial

More than likely

There’s your daughter!

~ words-n-motion