Purpose - Poem by Ndubuisi Eke
There is a purpose to all things
Nothing was created with a reason
My eyes see, my ear hears,
My mouth speak, all things has a purpose
But its ironical many have lived
never discovering the purpose for their lives.
The graves has held stock
lots of potential that would
have benefited the world.
Many with solution to world's crisis
died without knowing...
Many born as king, died as slaves
its ironical that the concept of purpose is not understood.
The world is like a market square
everyone was sent here to buy and sell
but many have ended up
never buying nor selling
so have ran out of resources,
and are destitute of life.
'the fact that you are born is evidence
that you possess something
that can benefit the world'.
Comments about Purpose by Ndubuisi Eke
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You