Maq Masi Blog

Maq Masi

I walk, I watch, I scrape my knees,

I test the walls, I learn the keys.

I trip, I stand, I curse the dirt—

Each bruise a lesson, each burn a word.

Wrong? I fix it. Slow? I speed.

The trick’s to move—not just to read.

Books don’t know how ice will crack

Till boots go out and bring truth back.

So round I go—same ground, new eyes,

Same fire, but fiercer, fed by tries.

Progress ain’t pretty—it’s patchwork, rough.

Seams split, then stitch, then strong enough.