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1-2-1-2-When you have pollen allergies,
Your first reaction when you sneeze isn't to chop down all the trees;
it's to move out of the breeze,
you see.
A mental mic check for when you feel like burning the Forrest
I choose detachment;
Excitement brings more distress,
It never brings peace.
Excitement is agitation and agitation leads to desperation which leads to bad outcomes.
Excitement is born from expectations and expectations assure disappointment.
Sad to see it go
The way you don't want it to.
We stay on the go.
Anything worth it is limited
Falling like leaves off a rotten tree.
Husks of fruits and seeds; the ripen and those who will not complete their deeds.
Not bound by cold decrees, nor lifted by the warm breeze. Travelers who've reached the destination, faces lost to me.

We shared a way; hearts filling veins and soles stepping on lanes, dreams kept us sane, how things change; even in stagnation it's impossible for everything to stay the same. We were many now left with few, the numbers keep rising; those who now enjoy a view.

Never been one to believe in haven or hell,
I can feel that which separates us is but a vail. They, as the sea, are unbound free; as there are desert coasts one can know drought before they decide to float. Ships sailing on the horizon; they look like they would tip the moment the sky sings, I did not see the strike but the thunder now rings.

I look for understanding not pity because ,you see, if life is like a movie my future plot now has deleted scenes because one can not simply recast anything, especially, when the actors character was the key. If Ndingumntu I'm now missing more parts of me.
Ndingumntu: I am ( a person)
Ubuntu: umntu ngumntu ngabantu/I am because we are. It's a Nguni proverb which shows the sentiment of humanity and empathy innate to all people since we can now exist exclusively from those who are part of us. "I am what I am because of who we all are."

This is a lamentation for those I have lost recently to suicide, sickness and age
This is a spiritual for those who's chests are too tight to breath, whose blood is caked on the streets, pain too common to be seen, their skin too dark to dream, minds too beautiful to be freed loved ones left to float down the stream burnt or hung like tobacco leaves,
Smoking us is their addiction love Nig-ga-teen but want to disregard the afflictions, want to take in our chemistry but disregard the chronic inequalities.
this is a spiritual for this who bleed, feel or look like me... when,
oh,
when will we be free, the children of the soil I hear their  voices on the breeze songs of sadness, fear, rage, love but very little of peace. No more knees to take, We have no more cheeks to turn. No justice but we must know peace
NO
until we know justice there will be No peace.
I'm tired of being tired
NSA
I want to be free
The strings spun a hard to see
But cut they shall be
Reminder
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