07/06/2026
𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 | "𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃"
𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙗𝙮: 𝘋𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘙𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘢, 𝘍𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘌𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳; 𝘐𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘑𝘰𝘺 𝘋𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴, 𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘌𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳; 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘉𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘓𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘈𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵
How much can a person take before the mind begs the body to quit? While the remnants of those feet have endured the long road that goes up and down, through humps and flat paths being recalled.
Starting from the fear of uncertainties,
of the first step as your eyes stare intently at the vast spaces between classrooms standing tall above you.
Your heart races,
hinders you from saying more,
and your mind taught you to think deeply
of what ifs—you couldn't grip the diploma.
Your lips murmur in front of the altar
of what it takes to walk through the aisle
while the music rings.
And you make it,
when you thought you couldn't,
your name echoes in an open ground
that sounds like lullabies, enunciating to every ear
of your parents, loved ones, grandparents, peers, classmates, and those surrounding you.
And you hold tightly to each hand that loved you,
except one wrapped those hands in a memory sealed in frames, and mumbling a wish that it feels the warmth of your presence.
Yet, how brave you are to continue when the next step of one of your dreams is finally engraved.
If the quietest ache is the space left open,
a spot meant for laughter, for a matching gown, for a shared victory,
a classmate who ran the same hard race but left before the finish line.
Whilst the lights completely cut out, plunging your thoughts back into those silent,
terrified midnight hours, staring blankly into the dark shadows of realization.
When the rain streams,
where each drop convinces all of you
to stop, to hesitate, to withdraw
from moving forward.
Suddenly, washing over the paths you spent years trying to map out.
A sign, a heavy hand pressing down on your head, begging you to just sit down and let the water take it all away.
While the very ground beneath your shoes begins to shift and crack,
shaking away any sense of safety you thought you had earned.
And you did it.
You could have left, but you stayed still.
Because there were hands written to ease and carry at least
half or a little of the weight you were carrying.
And stealing glances at the people marching right next to you,
this is the final huddle,
the last time you are all safe in the same bubble,
because tomorrow,
life pulls everyone in different directions,
into separate battles where your paths might never cross again.
As you look toward that open exit, the fear begins to clear.
The shaking stops, the air settles, and a new warmth takes over.
Those separate paths ahead are not just challenges—they are open doors,
and every single hump on the road has only made your step firmer.
You lift your head, your shoulders squaring against the unknown,
ready to conquer whatever landscape the real world throws your way.
The long wait is over, the foundation is solid,
and you step forward with total certainty, ready to own your future.
For maybe this is the reality
of what comes after you make your exit,
just to feel, embrace, and be you
after the long perseverance you have documented.
𝘗𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘊𝘊 𝘋𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘴
