The Truth of it all is that aggression leads to strife In my own confession I'd rather not die by the knife
We as humans have this need to supersede despite our insight and things We only grow when we bleed
Our staff and hands be tools to keep the lions at bay All our brains used in vein when we set a blaze to the grains now with our swords we make wars before there was peace to balance now we make wars in malice Forgetting Mother Earth feeds us from the same challis
I cut my hand on the handle as I manicure with the lathe Spit and Curse at the ground and then walk away in dismay our belongings are found in disarray another jealous of another's work diary hands and feet destroyed blood and sweat ignored
We throw Rocks to knock them off but meet death by the blade So we hammer out a sheet just to protect what we've made As if the mothers hand we're not enough Surviving her change Change
I'm from the land of the Star my culture reigns down from Dallas my travels are far and wide with our tools I fly over this freedom palace but at every checkpoint they scan with all seeing eyes They Shadow a Doubt with gun point Frisky hands finger out for lies
As I challenge that my Utensil is to help not to hurt they won't believe me cause the pen points cause mental alpha ****
So what’s my lesson to be learned? How does my Rhema become Word!?
I flock my words like a Sheppard guard it from the absurd leave my lessons and my sessions underground to mature
Poetry is what I breed and when I die all may see some take shelter beneath branches of my Po Wet Tree that drop insight and wisdom seed seasoned with change of Colored leaves
When they cut me down with Axe and Dagger my pen points the bullet A running Kid like Merle Hagard I spread ink seeds like soul feed emotion water and potion notions like fodder funneled, I dyed, You reed Sow, only take that you need if you have a life then keep it free of weeds cherish the fruits of labor and leave minds be.
" Harm Here is Harm There and There and Everywhere "