The things of this world How will this love end? All rights reserved. whisper? as if their little legs were only And how this is just another sad story. Raymond Martineau. Just God's forgiveness You can buy a physical or e-book via the link in my bio. Go home spic, pick pick, pick which child will go with you and which will stay, Go home spic, pick pick, pick who your babies will stay with. As long as we remember our inherent value and stay committed to the process. Broken Wings A bird cannot fly with broken wings So much sadness those wings will bring Heal those broken wings birdie, then you'll fly Flapping those wings gracefully, heading for the sky~~~ 4 Lines - Broken Wings I'm running a new series of contests (until my points run out!) I don't need something. Poems, pizza, power and progress, purr. As those words leave your lips and reach my ears, I will smile through the tears. Tears for Cuba, Venezuela, Brazil, and Chiapas, And do not budge from what is just, right and equal, And tears for you Lolita tears for you strength, endurance, and constant resistance, Tears for the times they tried to break you, Standing like a mountain against a hurricanes attack, Tears for the times you could not feel the warmth of the sun, Tears for all those time you wanted to cry but could not would not, Tears of sadness and tears of joy because our freedom will come, got young livin dead blastin with no hope, and so I am left a man colonized with no name, very apparent by my white skin and the green, but how can you swallow if you cant even chew, I question our very existence, what does it all mean, walking life with no legs on a wobbly high beam, pain agony, hate, venom and rage is all that exists, or you will be swept away by the wrong team, the evil games corporations and governments play, in these times you can be killed by what you say, but if left unsaid I would rather be dead, this system depending on us to commit crime, to kill each other so our population may decline, internal anger directed towards you and me, Stolen away from their children and families, Of what they believe to be a parasitic problem, As she, they, we, clean in their kitchens, their airports, Their homes, their restaurants, their streets, their churches, like Huitzilopochtli consumed his brothers and sisters, She the daughter in school paying full tuition, She the women selling tamales, mango, sandia, Let me tell you a story of a people long ago, It has been passed from my ancestors from theirs and so on and so on, In the echo of a whisper a history managed to blow through, It hit my ear opened my eyes, made my mouth speak and my nostrils flair, Made me breathe so I can share with you tonight, on this holy land that the Illinois, Arawak, Algonquian, Blackfoot, Cree the. Broken and lost. When looked upon by a pair of eyes They are my lullaby as they tuck me in and say goodnight. Are the things that I crave It hasn't been easy. No matter how hard or curvy the road to get here has been, I'm ready to win. I often can't stand any version. Experiencing pain, struggle, chaos and fear make life seem impossible sometimes, but I'm deeply thankful for community, camaraderie, faith and hope.
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