"Praise" - Bahamas AI Image
Praise More, Criticize Less
In a world where hearts grow weary and frail,
Where dreams are fragile and hope seems pale,
What if, for a moment, we all could confess—
We need to praise more, and criticize less?
I
See the child with eyes wide and bright,
Stumbling, learning, trying with all their might.
Their blocks may fall, their crayon may stray,
But a gentle word can color their day.
For little feet falter, and hands sometimes slip,
But laughter blooms faster than frowns on the lip.
Say, “Well done!” when effort is shown,
For seeds of praise are how confidence is grown.
When we scold too soon, when we bark at a mess,
We prune potential, we water it less.
Oh, let us be tender when young hearts confess—
To lift them with kindness, not burden with stress.
Let childhood breathe, let wonder ignite;
Praise more, so their dreams can take flight.
II
See the teacher, the guide, with lessons to share,
Worn hands sketching futures with patient care.
The weight of the world on shoulders that bend,
Yet they labor for knowledge, to shape, to mend.
A moment of failure, a lesson unclear,
Does not undo the hours spent year after year.
Whisper of gratitude, let it unfurl:
“You build minds and futures, you craft the world.”
For even the wise can falter and guess,
They too need praise more, and criticism less.
With words of support, their strength we renew,
For the burden is lighter with “Thank you” in view.
Respect the hands that mold the clay;
Praise more—their work will not decay.
III
See the neighbor across the way,
Their lawn not as perfect, their walls worn and gray.
But perhaps within those walls unseen,
Are stories of struggle, a life caught between.
A wave, a smile, a compliment brief,
Can soften their worries, can lighten their grief.
Before you point out the flaws in their fence,
Think of the walls we all put up in defense.
We know not the battles, the storms they suppress;
So choose to praise more, to judge and fault less.
Offer a hand, let your heart incline—
A community blooms where kindness is the vine.
Grow gardens of grace, let judgment decay;
Praise more, and watch bitterness drift away.
IV
See the friend who falters, the one who tries,
To hold their ground beneath turbulent skies.
They might miss a call, or forget to respond,
But bonds are not severed with faults we dwell on.
Instead of the silence that builds up regret,
Offer forgiveness; let kindness reset.
A word of encouragement, a reminder of worth,
Can rekindle the warmth and reignite the hearth.
For we all are flawed in some shape or guise,
Bound by the limits of mortal ties.
Let’s hold our friends up, let grudges digress—
And build bonds of praise, not walls of duress.
In friendship’s tender, fragile embrace,
Praise more, so the fractures are harder to trace.
V
See the mirror where judgment resides,
Reflection revealing what the mind often hides.
The critic within whispers doubt in the ear,
Highlighting flaws, stoking the fear.
But in that same glass, a soul still persists,
A heart that has weathered, a strength that exists.
Speak kindly to self, for wounds are no less,
When inflicted by whispers of our own harshness.
Praise the resilience, the journey you’ve led,
The days you survived, the tears you have shed.
Replace self-reproach with words that caress—
For healing begins when you judge yourself less.
In the silence where self-doubt likes to intrude,
Praise more, let compassion be your interlude.
VI
For this world is a canvas, imperfectly drawn,
With colors of dusk and the gold of dawn.
We all are painters, with brushes that bless,
When we choose to praise more, and criticize less.
Our voices are threads in humanity’s weave,
And the patterns we choose determine what we leave.
Let ours be a tapestry woven with care,
With kindness the fiber, and praise in the air.
Let us soften the sharpness of cynical thought,
Let kindness undo what cruelty has wrought.
For no human is perfect, no soul without flaw—
Yet within every heart lies a light we can draw.
Speak words that uplift, let empathy confess:
Praise more, and this world will be gentler, no less.
In each word we offer, we sculpt what will be—
A world bound by praise, a world set free.
