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I remember the land,   I remember its people,   They ways, the stupidity of Their mentality, I never came To heard of this term depression Until earlier on in life, I came to terms with hatred, bigotry Because it’s a disease, right up there With cancer, and corvid 19 Do you remember, the children Of the eighties, and their carefree looks on life Drugs, *** and intellectual freedom, It goes like this. I don’t think of labor I don’t think of work. To be laboring Means to be working, and if it's not self employed Its slavery with small wages. From the man. “i remember the land and I remember its people They stupidity from their mentality had worried me I remember the dead, and I remember How those trees outlived them, I Remember the language of the trees, That whispering sound of freedom And the sound of human longevity,   Due to the kindness of a matured land The waste land we leave behind, even without spoken words Can tell a story, of abandonment, You might see a grassy area, I see, a court date I see families fighting for ownerships,   I see illegitimates children,   fighting for the right to The land we leave behind, even without Spoken words, know it's worth. How do you come to terms with yours..
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Oct 24, 2021
Oct 24, 2021 at 11:58 AM UTC
I remember the land
I remember the land,   I remember its people,   They ways, the stupidity of Their mentality, I never came To heard of this term depression Until earlier on in life, I came to terms with hatred, bigotry Because it’s a disease, right up there With cancer, and corvid 19 Do you remember, the children Of the eighties, and their carefree looks on life Drugs, *** and intellectual freedom, It goes like this. I don’t think of labor I don’t think of work. To be laboring Means to be working, and if it's not self employed Its slavery with small wages. From the man. “i remember the land and I remember its people They stupidity from their mentality had worried me I remember the dead, and I remember How those trees outlived them, I Remember the language of the trees, That whispering sound of freedom And the sound of human longevity,   Due to the kindness of a matured land The waste land we leave behind, even without spoken words Can tell a story, of abandonment, You might see a grassy area, I see, a court date I see families fighting for ownerships,   I see illegitimates children,   fighting for the right to The land we leave behind, even without Spoken words, know it's worth. How do you come to terms with yours..
darknbeautiful-1
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Oct 24, 2021
Oct 24, 2021 at 11:58 AM UTC
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