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Rated: E · Other · Emotional · #2019253
Just an early morning poem to practice free flow
         The robo gels were just a spell, no time could tell or prove them
         wronger. I felt they had made me number, stronger. Their grasp held even longer than
         childhood could foster a lost soul confused and full of hunger and lost honor.
         I was a goner, trapped away in a world where night never turned to day. Nobody
         had mouths, no one could say "hey how are you doing, are you okay?" I just worked
         and worked, hoping one day it would pay-
         off and on my mind would sway and decay. Eroding emotions gave way to exploding
         notions of oceans full of life and maybe one day a wife to call my own and a child who had
         a home to come cry to when they felt they were all alone instead drowning in the pool
         or screaming into the phone at somebody on the other line without a reference, no frame of mind
         to care, to fake or pantomime holding feelings. Its a crime, and about damn time some people looked into the
         mirror and saw they weren't an I but an us, a we, not me, nor mine. We are all the same. No claim to fame
         or how we became , or how we decide to play the game should be the blame for the separation we have
         from one another. You are my friend, my sister, my brother from another mother.
         Every time we choose to care we birth another
         lover, a mindful maker, a creator unlike any other. Whos world and words can bring us together and make a sad
         place seem a just a little bit better. Or we forget and ignore that, and this place grows a little bit wetter, colder, deader.
         So just forget your place to judge, pick, pry, or nudge your beliefs down other peoples throats and instead, provide
         them water, to feed their flowers, and house their boats. Be a better student, sit down, pull up a chair and take some
         better notes. Dont be the smartest in the room, if you 'are', you'll see that soon and feel that doom of knowing
         that everything is relative and that knowledge you had became a sedative. Putting you to sleep for days and days on
         end. Taking away everybody who would listen, or understand. Nobody wants to comprehend the truth in returning
         again and again.
         

         And that's the place where I have been.
         

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