What will your verse be?

 

   What will your verse be?  

What will your verse be?

A question asked in a whisper,

echoed in classrooms and hearts

a question I now answer,

with laughter, love, and the life I dream to craft.

My verse will begin with joy,

with humor like sunshine through tired skies,

roasting with love,

joking with soul,

bringing smiles to the faces

that life forgot to cheer for a while.

I will walk strong and tall

not just in height,

but in spirit unbent by harsh words.

No voice will shrink me,

no cruelty will cage me,

for I will love myself in ways

I once waited for others to.

My verse will be hands that help.

One day, when I can,

I will lift those who sleep on cold pavements

with empty hands and endless hope.

I will give....quietly, fiercely,

until dignity returns to every eye I meet.

It will be a life lived on my terms,

written in chapters of choice and courage.

Independent not in solitude,

but in soul

writing my own path,

even if the world draws maps I don’t wish to follow.

My verse will echo in my home,

where siblings find comfort

not in advice,

but in presence.

laughter spilling during matches,

teasing over snacks,

being together even in the silence.

I will be the voice in the crowd

cheering not just for goals and victories,

but for moments that bind a nation,

a team, a spirit, a flag.

A loyal fan with a heart that beats

in rhythm with my country’s colors.

Friends, oh yes

I’ll hold them close through seasons and storms,

turning time into memories,

conversations into warmth,

and promises into lifelong chapters.

I’ll travel not just places,

but dreams I once whispered to myself.

To see, to feel, to be

in lands that once lived only on my walls

and in my plans.

I will clean the world where I can.

Not just with a broom,

but with awareness.

respecting earth, sky, rivers,

and the spaces we share

as humans first.

And above all, I will love.

My country.

Its people.

Every faith.

Every voice.

Every job, every gender, every soul.

Because respect doesn’t cost,

but it builds everything.

My verse will not be loud

but it will be full.

Of kindness.

Of purpose.

Of peace.

I will make my parents proud,

not by perfection,

but by authenticity.

I will love someone deeply

faithfully, freely,

and be theirs as they are mine.

And when my time ends,

I will not pack regrets

only memories;

of love given,

of laughter shared,

of a life lived gently,

but boldly.

Ending;

This is my verse.

Not written to impress,

but to express.

And if the powerful play goes on,

then this is my humble line in it. 

GLAD YOU READ IT:)

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