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Like ants we scurry around and think we truly matter. We build sand castles and believe we can achieve immortality. In truth like children on a seashore we labor in vain. The waves from the ocean of time sweep away what we have built. No matter our perception, our existence in this world is finite. What we leave behind little but memories of our ghost. In the end we complete our short journey, while eons pass the world turns and the cosmos changes, and yet we exist for only a second and wonder that we even matter at the end of it all.
The Root of every story is the one I hope to hear
the one that has been buried ‘neath a world without an ear
[‘cause every noise is nothing but a clinical decay
and everyone’s on something while believing they’re okay]
the Words toward which I gravitate are not some passersby
I wait for them like Water pouring down from rainy skies
and every time I hear them, You I glorify again
The Source of every root I have, the Miracle Himself
«Для дерева есть надежда, что оно, если и будет срублено, снова оживет, и отрасли от него выходить не перестанут: если и устарел в земле корень его, и пень его замер в пыли, но, лишь почуяло воду, оно дает отпрыски и пускает ветви, как бы вновь посаженное.»
‭‭Книга Иова‬ ‭14:7-9‬ ‭
One thing for sure that we all know?
In all states, we have boys trying to be men.
But far from the role of a man.

Their resolution to a conflict deals with guns.
Then talking "big boy" stuff like they rough and tough.
Until they appear before judges and find something more.

Yes, a conviction.
Handed down by the judge of twelve people going by evidence to convict them.

Then, while locked up behind bars.
Now, they want to be a good son.
Seeking to challenge that verdict that placed them in prison.

But let's remember they were boys trying to be men.
While never understand?
A gun doesn't make you a man any more than saying it.
While you still a teen?

Now you lost a chance at all your dreams.
It’s 3am
And I’m eating cereal in bed.
My thoughts wander
But always come back to you.
You’re why I can’t sleep.
You’re why sometimes I can’t breathe.
You’re why my cereal went soggy.
 Feb 2019 Henry Akeru
Josh
Untitled
 Feb 2019 Henry Akeru
Josh
I remember saying goodbye,
after you
turned and ran away
your memory
chased me for years
 Feb 2019 Henry Akeru
Gods1son
The old me is gone!
When I accepted Your gift,
the new me was born
With a different kind of life
Made in the likeness of the Most High
The gift is called salvation
Redemption
Liberation from death
Spirits mingled into oneness
Ticket to eternal life.
Oh, in this modern world of society.
Where disrespect is the new trait?
You still got to be careful with your wording of expression.
Even if protected by the first amendment.

To the mighty males that toss around calling females that infamous B-word.
And find the rage of some, if not many.
Be not shocked when one or more attack.
Just say, you got what you deserved?
And if they in a group?
You might get a little more.

Same, if you a high powerful racist.
Remember this GREAT advice.
You might be able to say it, in your comfort zone.
You know, same race, the same place.
But accept this truth?

In this society, you might find more than you bargain for from your rights to speak.
Then some will say and there's no might to it.
You got what you deserve?
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