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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.
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Sweat And Grit

Not gold, not silver, nor paper bills,  
But work—unyielding, shaped by will.  
No throne, no title, no grand acclaim,  
Just sweat and grit that carve a name.  

The lazy dream, the talkers boast,  
Yet empty hands will hold the most.  
For wealth that lingers, wealth that stays,  
Is earned through effort, not just praise.  

The farmer bends, the builder lifts,  
The writer pens, the artist sifts.  
Each hand that labors, each mind that strives,  
Builds the bridges where honor thrives.  

No bribe can buy what toil can make,  
No shortcut seals what time must stake.  
For in the end, when names are set,  
Work ethic earns what none forget.

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