Why Life Come Hard

A question landed on my chest,
Heavy, bold — demanding rest:
“Why life come hard?”
I sat with it.
Turned it over.
Pondered deep, deeper still…
Until truth began to spill.

Maybe…
It’s the will of the Divine unfolding,
A script written far beyond our holding.
Do we truly steer this ship alone?
Or just actors reading lines unknown?

Some swear they’re in control —
But why the sudden mood swings,
Why do smiles fade for no reason,
Why do we rise, fall, then rise again?

That’s nature’s subtle voice,
Reminding us:
“You’re not the one in charge.”
You can be moved, shaken, stirred—
You too can be controlled.

But still—why must it hurt this much?
Maybe…
We’ve strayed too far from higher laws.
Maybe the pain is a compass,
Pointing us back to Source.

Yet isn’t all of life already written?
Every breath, every tear—known?
Nothing escapes the eye of the Divine.
So does He just watch as we destroy our own?

Then it hit me.
The enemy is not the sky,
Nor the stars,
Nor the gods we cry to in pain.

We are the storm.
We build the tools of our destruction,
Then curse heaven when they fall.

Life is simple.
But the more tangled your thoughts,
The more foreign your soul feels…
The less you truly understand
Your own condition

© Bello Abdul Ganiu Ajibola (Crying Pen)

Bello Abdul Ganiu Ajibola is a native of Alimosho in Lagos State. He is a young guy who sees writing as a way to change the world. He started writing in 2018, and he believes the pen is mightier than the sword. He hopes he’s heard one day. He prays and hopes the world listens to my cries. He won’t ever stop crying until he is truly heard and until the world truly sees his tears for what they are worth.