Hard Times Poem by Mohammad Yousef

In the shadows of the years,
hard times linger,
like a stubborn fog,
clinging to the breath of morning,
weaving through the alleys of hope,
where dreams are whispered,
in hushed tones,
beneath the weight of despair.

They stretch out,
like an endless highway,
where each mile is marked
by the echoes of laughter lost,
and the ghosts of promises
that danced just out of reach.
A tapestry of struggle,
stitched with threads of grit,
and the relentless beating of a heart,
that refuses to surrender.

A hundred years,
they may stay,
but time is a fickle friend,
a river that carves new paths,
an artist reshaping the contours
of desolation into resilience.
For every dark night,
there comes a dawn,
soft and golden,
painting the horizon
with hues of possibility.

We gather the fragments,
the scattered shards of yesterday,
and in the quiet moments,
we learn to believe again,
to breathe in the scent of renewal,
to dance in the rain,
and let joy seep into our bones,
like sunlight breaking through
the heaviest of clouds.

Hard times do not define us,
they are but chapters
in the story of our becoming,
a canvas where we learn
the brushstrokes of endurance,
the colors of compassion,
the hues of shared humanity.

So let us rise,
not as victims of circumstance,
but as warriors of the spirit,
with scars that tell tales
of battles fought and won,
of love that flourishes,
even in the cracks of despair.

For though they may linger,
these hard times,
they are fleeting,
like whispers carried away
by the winds of change.
And in their wake,
we will find the seeds,
planted deep in the soil of our souls,
waiting for the rain of kindness,
the warmth of understanding,
the light of hope,
to nurture their bloom.

Let us not fear the darkness,
for in its depths,
we stumble upon the light within,
a flame that flickers,
but never fades,
a promise that echoes:
hard times may stay,
but they will never last forever.