Writers 
Keeps barking, keeps moving,
sounding harder than before,
while the human keeps on smiling,
unaware of what lies in store.
The dog stands close beside you,
its eyes fixed on the unknown.
You keep looking without question,
believing you are safe alone.
The barking grows much louder,
the warning will not disappear.
But you mistake the sound for nothing,
because the danger isn't clear.
Not every living thing speaks in words,
not every message comes with a sign.
Sometimes, what you call a disturbance
is a warning arriving just in time.
You don't need to fear every shadow,
or run whenever something seems strange.
But wisdom means paying attention
when a familiar pattern starts to change.
How many warnings have we ignored
because they came in a different form?
How many signs have we laughed away
before we faced the coming storm?
A friend may warn you; you call it envy.
A voice may guide you; you call it noise.
You silence advice that challenges your comfort,
then wonder why trouble becomes your choice.
The dog cannot explain what it senses.
It cannot describe what lies ahead.
It can only bark and keep on warning,
while you dismiss the message instead.
Tomorrow is never a promise.
Regret cannot rewrite yesterday.
When something deserves your attention,
don't let pride turn your eyes away.
Pause and observe before judging.
Think before you choose to ignore.
Not every warning means danger is certain,
but wisdom checks what the signal is for.
The barking continues.
The human finally turns.
Perhaps there is nothing waiting,
perhaps there is something to learn.
The message was never about panic,
or living in fear of what might be.
It was about opening your eyes
to what you were too blind to see.
So listen when the warning repeats.
Look around before moving along.
For sometimes the thing you call a nuisance
may be trying to tell you something is wrong.
Not every warning is just noise,
not every signal should be denied.
Sometimes, the difference between regret and wisdom
is choosing to look before walking by.
