The slur in each word The blurred state of vision The muddled mind with fuzzy, mist like thoughts. And yet, The roar of unhindered courage The strength of the desperation That spends it's days tossing and turning in the background. Always there, but never quite heard.
Come together and rise up and over What is left of all logical thought.
the little voice inside my head said, do not take the drunk slurs of others lightly, perhaps they are expressing something so pure that in soberness it scares them