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For girls,
Always be that beautiful butterfly ,which is hard to catch..


For boys,
And always be that bad boy, with a good heart...
Down the long, hard road we trudge and find
Others judged, inalienably, our kind
For to test the vapors floating there
We all must gird to be prepared
To differ in our judgement call
Then come to terms, as brothers all,
To weather storms of good and bad....
Then proudly wear what must be had.

M.
Ernest consideration after re reading Nat Lipstadt's tome:
"The Quality of Commitment".
Shadow cloaks the searing throng
When wrong obliterates the song,
When carnal mindsets intervene
To render that, so right, obscene.
What triggers monstrous-ness to rise
Eventuates as no surprise
Like carnage spread across the world
Hang livid, blood red flags, unfurled.
Shadows in the searing throng
As seething others croon the wrong.
Addendum to Spygrandson's great work,"Appalachian Trail Markers".
Lots of love
Set to a romantic first
Introduce the since, for a reality, enough
Of a kindness to distance ourselves from worsts

Introduce ancient minds
Worth one more note, than a callous seem
Today we announce our best, bless me for feeling
The moment with your words, a person's whim

Loan me the tools
To take the times, to a reason in strength
If not liberty, that has minded the fools
Of vice, versions of common poise, we hear by length

Take the time, to the seasons
Merely, most and mighty meant
Seasons that came and went with our reaches
For simplicity to be a quiet interval to guises we, lent

Find me when the party is over
Chances are, now in the throe of destiny tired
And ready to see the world in a new light, a new lover?
Perhaps a shadow of even more, a lip's imagination acquired
Another lunatic trip to
the hospital.
Nine days, this
go around.
For the first two
days, I just pulled
the covers over my
head and pretended I
was back in the womb.
It was warm and safe.
As much as I
wanted to stay,
I knew it was time to
be reborn into this
strange world of
sick streets, and
broken dreams.
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