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Anger should
be a reed
or a flute
each breath a trigger
to make you into
a happy villain
that will float you away

I am the one
being willed
but  I can
take my righteous
*** out of the equation

So I got redirected
and reconciled into
a new mode
of thinking

God bless
the trash you
heed like a
and god bless me
Brim rooted in leaves
we steep a *** of tea
to measure its beauty
with dull eyes then
find ourselves with loose lips
Our tongues even lighter
We are living jokes
punch drunk and
laughing at the
wrong time.
Death waits.
But, first develops
a rapport
with you.
letting you
believe in
immortal fancies.
entertaining the idea of
living again. in the flesh.
Death can stand no more
of your duplicity. of
your undying hypocrisy.
Then, lights out.
No life, for you.
God is a
molding paste you
bone for bone
She is the woman
you can not stand
Hand on hip
slapping the
peak of Her
thigh like ***

God is madman
with dope beats
He's got you hooked
splicing sounds
into notes as
He watches you
shake your *** like
a possession

God is You
reading this poem
falling in love
with Yourself
over and
over again
like fractals
My heart
beats like
a light
in action
it speaks
the truth
and knows
what I don't.
They say my black
is not beautiful
as if my hair is
not the color of the
night that holds
the moon in
all her silvery glory
as if the darkness
doesn't heal
the wounds of an
oppressive Sun
as if my eyes
aren't deep enough
to capture
a kaliedoscope of colors
as if my skin
doesn't glow with a
luminating sheen
soft enough to
inspire you to sleep
to dream up another world
And if I had wings
they'd shine opulent black
like a mirror reflecting
the whole wide world.
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