Sitting at a balcony shirtless, My legs crossed on the rail And my arms folded A devil is on my right shoulder, An angel on my left.
"It does not have to be this hard" The devil speaks "It will all be worth it in the end" The angel pleads
No middle ground, One must take a stand No second choices No second chances Question your morality, Look inwards Understand your reality, Look outwards.
The will of a man is like a strong tree, But how resistant is this tree against a tornado In a shape of crucial decisions and peer pressures?
Arms folded, Stuck in a mental storm, Ink running, Pen bleeding, This writer hoping To find an answer before this poem ends.
Another voice speaks, Separate from the two angels —saying "There can only be an answer, when there is a question"
Heeding to this comment from the internal voice within, I sit up and charge on The hard work The difficult route.
—Israel Olorunnisola
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Quick Question
1. Have you ever been pushed to the wall, that you are forced to compromise on your Morals in order to take the easy way out
2. If yes, how do you fight the temptation? How do you resist the urge not to compare yourself with the success of your peers?
