we feel pain, it’s obvious, can’t become smart and not
be affected. I was a foolish soul, madness in his guts, couldn’t articulate the
misery. damned and elitist, so cured, such a lie, it became normal. it’s different
in ghettos, nothing affects us, everything is black, and we adore it. so close,
unlocked, cultural pride; soot, crops, harvests, my life! I was tripping
harder, I mostly did, it means so great a liquor glass. to have honesty, to
give more, to gain a perspective, as opposed to perspective. but deep and dark
anguish, to arrive so early, to have riches. I just speak it—not needing much,
life becomes basic ingredients, when priding in Spirit. maybe a slightly more,
maybe in London, maybe back to Africa, I doubt they’d desire me! Maybe to Bethlehem,
to see sights, to tread where greats have died. to imagine another vein, to
lead an entire peoples, denied, after pure worship, I fear this! many will be
in a situation: sheep or goat! and that’s a stressor, to have never known what
life has given into.
