I trace the path of rolling billiard balls,Each strike a consequence of what came first.No random spark within these sudden walls,No uncaused choice to quench an inner thirst.If atoms march in strict, unbroken lines,And physics writes the script of what we say,Then Fate has pre-arranged our grand designs,And turned our tomorrows into yesterday.Yet inside this machine, a whisper wakes,A feeling that the steering wheel is mine.With every conscious breath a mortal takes,We claim ownership of our own design.If all is fated by a hidden source,Why does the soul feel weight at every course?
MICRO FINANCE unknown to many is the sole panacea to mass poverty eradication in human society.The blog specifically focuses on the industry around the world but with more bias on Africa-unarguably the poorest region of the world.
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