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Heart of Stone

He built his dreams with fire and steel,   Through sweat and pain, through grit and will.   His path was carved with silent nights,   A war he waged beyond the sights.   But love, so sweet, so soft, so near,   Whispered dreams into his ear.   A choice was placed upon his chest—   His passion’s flame, or love’s request.   He turned away from burning light,   Held her close, embraced the night.   Yet soon he found, to his dismay,   Both love and purpose slipped away.   For goals demand a heart of stone,   And love still longs to call its own.   To chase one means to lose the fight,   To hold both tight is rarest might.   So walk the road with eyes aware,   Choose with wisdom, choose with care.   For once you drop what makes you whole,   You lose the fire—and lose your soul.

Masese

Masese, the marketer, sharp and slick,
His words like arrows, targets to pick.
Sales were his game, numbers his score,
But a nagging doubt lingered, a feeling of more.

The quotas he chased, the deals he secured,
A hollow success, a hunger uncured.
For Masese, the man, with a heart underneath,
Sensed a yearning for purpose, beyond profit's teeth.

One day, a campaign, a brand with a cause,
To heal a community, defying the laws
Of just selling a product, a mere fleeting trend,
But a chance to uplift, a helping hand to lend.

Masese's voice, once hawking and keen,
Now spoke of compassion, a message unseen.
The numbers climbed high, but a warmth filled his chest,
For marketing with kindness, he put it to the test.

And Masese realized, with a newfound glee,
That good deeds and commerce could harmoniously be.
The targets he met, with a conscience so clear,
A marketer transformed, his purpose held dear.

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