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<blockquote>Now his heart beats with a different song.He knows connection makes the broken strong.</blockquote>I remember telling this fragile soulto cherish the one thing that keeps us whole.I begged him to value what truly sustains,but he never granted audience.His silence echoed through my veins. Life in his little cubicle seemed enough.He hid there, smiling through moments rough.An island in a desert he quietly made,a lonely wanderer living in fading shade. He carried baggage no words could explain,the kind that bends shouldersand sinks a heart in pain.With every step, his strength slipped away,yet he kept insisting,“Relationships ain’t my thing.Life is every man for himself.Guard your soul and guard your shelf.” His voice trembled with a confidencehe never truly felt.Fear was the armour in which he dwelt. He refused the lifeline I stretched with care.He pushed away comfort, warmth, and prayer.He could have had shelter on stormy nights,arms that shield and heart that lights. Yet he wandered alone.Craving a fellow man.Needing a touch of companionship,but unable to open his span.His Master whispered warnings soft and kind,but he locked every door,closed every window,shut out every design. Without these bonds he could not rise.His dreams fell still before his eyes.He made other things his top pursuitand paid the price in silent dispute. But life has a way of teaching trutheven to the strongest heart aloof.Pain became his tutor.Loneliness became his guide.And from experience he finally learnedwhat pride tried so long to hide. Now his heart beats with a different song.He knows connection makes the broken strong.He has become a voice for love’s embrace,an advocate for bonds we dare not replace. He teaches that relationshipsare gifts wrapped in human form.They pull us from darknessand carry us through storm. Building bonds with fellow menshould be our highest call again.Help from above will reach your handbut often through the touchof another human’s strand. So build with tenderness.Value with grace.For relationships soften life’s hardest place. —Adetutu Oluwapelumi Deuel.

Human Bridges. 

Overweight woman sitting on the floor, feeling overwhelmed on her weight loss journey next to dumbbells and a scale

<blockquote>And I hope that someday I'll rediscover what it means to be in a comfort zone</blockquote>I've found solace within myself,&nbsp;Yet, I tremble in the presence of others.&nbsp;The four walls of my room have become my sanctuary.&nbsp;I tried to find comfort with myself. My emotions are overwhelming,&nbsp;And the weight of failures and rejections has sobered me.&nbsp;I'm intimidated by my own self,&nbsp;And surprisingly, I don't find solace within myself any more. Comfort zone you say??To me, that is just a foreign concept.&nbsp;I struggle to find peace,And I hope that someday I'll rediscover what it means to be in a comfort zone….. —Zainab Kolajo.

The Weight of Emotions.

Autumn pumpkin sprout macro closeup with water droplets

—after Adeyemi Samuel﻿ <blockquote>..I am still capable of beautiful things</blockquote>It is the close of the rainy season,and, like these final drops, I amslowly drifting away. Lately, I've been preoccupied bythe weight of my presence. Life, what trick have you gotten upyour sleeve for me?Me— bushy hair. Me— shaky hands,broken diastema. At the mouth of his poem, my friend Adeyemi,Says, “I am still capable of the thingsI am yet to become."And that is what scares me; How nature always takes its course,How the baobab does not, of its own accord,choose to become twigs of bones. But I have beheld baobabs bombarded by beauty—filled to the brim with grins—Life welling up again like it never left.This is the miracle I bid November bring. O, November,Tell me I am still capable of beautiful things.

November Begins.

Notebook with word Winner on white background, top view

<blockquote>Every trial, a trail in my testimony, Every violation etched upon my victory ground.</blockquote> At fourteen, I watered a federal dream with my hands,Shouldered my youth to face the university gates,The rules whispered — too young to belong,I told the old fellow, my pen writes fine exceptions.The gates quivered to yield, daring me to prove my years as I walked through. Now sixteen, that federal dream breathes within and beyond federal halls.Every trial, a trail in my testimony,Every violation etched upon my victory ground.And as I walk through these gates again, this time as a representative, my lips clasped in realization—I came, I saw, I conquered. —theade_verse

FINE EXCEPTIONS: DEFYING AGE, DEFINING VICTORY!

Smiling Girl Looking at Boy Rehearsing School Play

<blockquote>...Life felt like a lie with clarity far away. And I felt adulthood wasn't worth the glitz and hype.</blockquote> The long-awaited ice age glinted from afar.Alas! It's my golden ticket into the limelight, laced with undeniable virtues.How sweet, yet demanding! With excitement, I entertained the awaited. Felt like the journey began with the Steam of hotness.Guardians left me to fend for myself."You're fully grown," they muttered to my beautifully moulded and pierced ears.The flamboyance of life I loved and received halted. The call to responsibility fell on me like a heavy log of wood.&nbsp;An introvert with no rapport with men, that was me! And that confined me as I stepped into the hood. Alas, reality dawned on me like the striking chords of a string.Expectations were dampened.Each night, I'd slouch with my head in between my hands at the mercy of the deep weariness that ate my soul.With the roller coaster moving in the same direction. Days leapt into weeks and weeks into months, until it became tons of years, on the same wheel.In between, there were glimmers of opportunity that didn't last.Faze in, faze out, scurry off, scurry in.&nbsp;Down the hill of the valley, up the hill of the mountain.&nbsp;The age seems to be void of stability. Life felt like a lie with clarity far away.And I felt adulthood wasn't worth the glitz and hype. Things went haywire until I met the Guardian Angel in the form of Flesh.He started breeding me about the rudiments of life I had bypassed, Knowledge began to fill the space Ignorance occupied.And I proceeded to practise what I had learnt.The vision became apparent.&nbsp;Directions changed, and I moved faster than a cheetah.&nbsp;All along, my cheat code has been relationship.I began to prioritise relationships with men at this stage of life.&nbsp;It worked faster than magic! Lines began to straighten and fall in place.&nbsp;And until I realised it, adulthood remained barren. Now that I do, Dear adulthood, you're undeniably mine to explore with the angel of light. —Adetutu Oluwapelumi Deuel

TALES OF ADULTHOOD.

<blockquote>Maybe courage isn't about running into the light. Maybe it's about taking one more step even when you're unsure.</blockquote> Sometimes, you find yourself standing at that point in the tunnel where the light feels just bright enough.You can see, but not too far.You're torn between moving forward or staying where it feels safe.What if going further makes the light fade?What if it blinds you with something new?So, you pause.You breathe.You wonder if this "bright enough" is where you're meant to stay,or if the brighter light at the end of the tunnel still calls your name.Maybe courage isn't about running into the light.Maybe it's about taking one more step even when you're unsure.Because sometimes, the light only grows brighter when you decide to move. —Zainab Kolajo

THE COURAGE BETWEEN SHADOWS AND LIGHT.

Yemipoet Creation

Yemipoet is an Instagram  page that organizes monthly and random poetry contest. Top 3 winner gets a cash prize. Yemipoet is registered  as Yemipoet Creation Company in Nigeria