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~for Wyett Yocum~ *nowadays, we slice and dice ourselves by gender, race, and any thin wafer division by which the human persona can be identified, as if we were tattooing our ****** identity on the wrist of your societal recognition scales all in order to say,  Hey! this is who I am, this! is why I am special unique, very very deserving of your accoladed admiration so the newly acquired phrase, there is no brag in that boy leaps and bounds, coming to rest on my wide eyes white, now part of my lexicon, there, where my vocabulary stored, for its very contradictory contrariness demands the realized anti-hero, the natural quietude of the aw shucks, that we used to value, people, above all nearing the end of my days, my vast knowledge of words and people grows smaller by leaps and bounds, for finer refinement and focus, vastly diminishes and distinguishes but a handful of verbal grains, seeds, a few is all that’s needed, kernels, that when deep planted, well watered, a gift nurtured by nature’s simplest greater gifts regifted us human exmplars there is kind. there is honor. there is selflessness, character, service and a very, very few more. some new, just today, recently obtained, the very title of this late night reflection! a fine spun summary depiction of modesty, a trait so rare, it’s existence now under appreciated, and so very hot-not, au courant, fashionable, woks or lit, hardly deemed valuable in the me-matters age so crumple up this minor essay, store and stick it among your mementos, and other keepsakes, let it not be seen, avoid confusing the young man of whom it was spoken and herein recorded, but this prize! this poem! this award without proclamation or gold statuette or degree, will, a secret well kept, by those who raised him, recognizing, that their own mirrored imaged is quietly well reflected, his inherited invaluable, distinguished modesty, product of his pedigree* Nov. 10, 2029 12:44am
0
Nov 10, 2019
Nov 10, 2019 at 1:02 AM UTC
there is no brag in that boy
~for Wyett Yocum~ *nowadays, we slice and dice ourselves by gender, race, and any thin wafer division by which the human persona can be identified, as if we were tattooing our ****** identity on the wrist of your societal recognition scales all in order to say,  Hey! this is who I am, this! is why I am special unique, very very deserving of your accoladed admiration so the newly acquired phrase, there is no brag in that boy leaps and bounds, coming to rest on my wide eyes white, now part of my lexicon, there, where my vocabulary stored, for its very contradictory contrariness demands the realized anti-hero, the natural quietude of the aw shucks, that we used to value, people, above all nearing the end of my days, my vast knowledge of words and people grows smaller by leaps and bounds, for finer refinement and focus, vastly diminishes and distinguishes but a handful of verbal grains, seeds, a few is all that’s needed, kernels, that when deep planted, well watered, a gift nurtured by nature’s simplest greater gifts regifted us human exmplars there is kind. there is honor. there is selflessness, character, service and a very, very few more. some new, just today, recently obtained, the very title of this late night reflection! a fine spun summary depiction of modesty, a trait so rare, it’s existence now under appreciated, and so very hot-not, au courant, fashionable, woks or lit, hardly deemed valuable in the me-matters age so crumple up this minor essay, store and stick it among your mementos, and other keepsakes, let it not be seen, avoid confusing the young man of whom it was spoken and herein recorded, but this prize! this poem! this award without proclamation or gold statuette or degree, will, a secret well kept, by those who raised him, recognizing, that their own mirrored imaged is quietly well reflected, his inherited invaluable, distinguished modesty, product of his pedigree* Nov. 10, 2029 12:44am
nat-lipstadt
Written by
99/M/NYC/Lippstadt/Kraków
Nov 10, 2019
Nov 10, 2019 at 1:02 AM UTC
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