The Author's Unspoken Words (MGS Writings)

In a quiet classroom when shadows creep, The long corridor you’ve always kept clean, There are stories to tell; Each lesson of sweat, Every staying up late, Each teaching with a smile; Each frustration over a clue, The happiness you spent with kids, The indifference of the colleagues, And sometimes arguments at their finest.  And most of the time the isolation from the leaders, All these speak the truth: you’re a fighter! With every stumble, with every fall, You rise again; you stand up tall. The world may turn a blind eye now, But the stars still shine, and they know how.  You guide the weary, the lost, the naive, You shore up those who are pursuing achievements,  And that’s your win! Keep the faith.  So, hold on tight, don’t lose your way, The dawn will break; it’s just a test, Your hard work whispers, “I am not vain”. Each effort counts, through joy and pain, In the matter of time, your thread will gleam, For every tear that has graced your cheeks, Is a step towar...

Once upon a time with the bullies Janna Willies, a 15-year-old high school girl, is the silent type; she speaks less than anyone knows. On my way to the school gate, I spot her out of the corner of my eye. She is bending her head, busy bagging her old belongings. I notice that she has lost her slim figure, but I can still recognize her. Her nails are unpainted, and her hands are covered with old gloves. She went to the same middle school as my brother, Billy. As I remember the days in high school, I recall that she was the dazzling, sweetest girl who immediately attracted the attention of all the high school boys. She was a head taller than me, her black hair shining with vitality. She was the top student in her class, Class A. She owned a pink satchel bag, which meant more than owning an iPhone nowadays. She often polished her nails in bright colors that matched her stylish, well-tailored clothes. I was a freshman when I first saw her with my brother Billy in the gym. We did not forma...

In silence,  I speak; in silence,  I shout these very words,  and no one can ever hear  until I open up:  Their illness was eating them up. It was a parasite consuming their brain cells.  They couldn’t make responsible decisions.  But despite knowing that these symptoms  Were caused by their mental condition  They blamed others and especially me.  But their illness cannot be their scapegoat.  It's not an excuse to make up stories and gossip.  Their tiny brain can't cover up all those lies,  That results in the loss of someone's reputation.  Their mental illness will lead them to nothing but hell.   The Effects of Bullying at Work (based on my experience) The Daily Struggle: Each day began with a knot in my stomach, knowing I would face the bullies. Their taunts echoed in my mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. I would walk through the hallways, feeling invisible yet painfully aware of their eyes on ...

In the world where we are all connected Life unfolds like a thread of dreams and fears But I find joy, wisdom, and laughter through prayers In strong faith I will stand, a new hope in life.  With dreams fulfilled and skies so blue Life’s gentle hand will guide my way through With blessings bright will come my ways God is my strength, my steadfast light.  In every shadow, He’ll shine so bright. Through trials faced and mountains climbed I’ll find my peace, my heart aligned I’ll be showered with laughter and cheers. Gathering stories with loved ones near With tiny hands I'll embrace my dears The magic of life, the love I bear I'll wander the world from shore to shore. Exploring the wonders forever more From bustling cities to quiet streams Each journey I thread with dreams and will With every sunset a promise I will make. Of joy and adventure that memories told Life will be good; I’ll dance in the sun For with God beside me I'm always a winner So, here’s my future, a bright a...

Before I knew my own name, I knew her voice. Before I knew what love meant, I was already living in it. She's not just a woman, She's my first home.   Her hands, my first shelter. Her lap, my first sky. She taught me how to stand by letting me fall safely. She taught me how to speak by listening to words I didn't know how to say. She taught me how to be kind without keeping count. How to be strong without raising my voice. And how to stay, even when staying was hard. She was the first to love me, and she loved me in a way that taught me how to love everyone else, and finally, myself. She's the first woman to love me. My guide where I hold into when I feel scared. People say "be independent, you're old enough!", yet I'm still in her bed hugging her like she'll disappear when I let go. She's the first woman to love me. She age older and older, so do I. But her love never learned how to fade overtime. She's the first woman to love me, My mothe...

In halls where echoes of laughter fade, A shadow looms, a heavy grade, The clock ticks slow, the minutes crawl, As dreams are stifled within these walls. Promises made, yet seldom kept, Incompetence lingers, while hope is swept, Forms misplaced, and emails lost, Each day we bear the mounting cost. The rules are tangled, a web of red tape, While students struggle, trying to escape, A system that falters, a ship without sail, In the storm of confusion, we all seem to pale. The bell rings loud, but silence reigns, As visions of progress dissolve into chains, We raise our voices, but they fall on deaf ears, Frustration builds, fueled by our fears. Oh, to be heard, to feel understood, To see change blossom, to feel it’s good, Yet here we stand, in a bureaucratic maze, Lost in the shuffle, caught in a haze. But still, we gather, united in plight, With passion ignited, we’ll continue the fight, For every misstep, for every delay, We’ll carve out a path; we’ll find our own way. So, here’s to t...