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Poetic T Jul 30
If we can’t stop them putting there
foot in the door, how can we stop
them from sleeping in our beds and
telling us what we can do..

An invasion isn’t bullets it’s sleeping
while they lock us out of our heritage,
and the identity that makes us British
no matter our religion or colour.

Millions died so that the few could
live  the way we do,
but let in the illegal fragmentation.
Its breaking the cohesion of the colours
that the UK is great..

We aren’t one, we are the many.
But when those who don’t believe
in the many, only the singular,  dilute our shores, there isn’t a mixture of cohesion.

Just a bacteria of invading ideas that
no longer make us a United  kingdom of ideas and cohesion, but a disenchanted reflection of conflicted cohesion that doesn’t want to mix.

But to be discombobulated from
the reality of those who meld for the Benefit of all. We are a universal melting *** of culture and thought that rises us above ourselves..

But there are those who think this is the undeniable falseness.
We are more than the invasion
of cohesion. We are a people of many
that will outlive the degradation
of I’ll given waves that wash upon our shores uninvited..
Poetic T Jul 29
Words can be toxic, violating
the essence of syllables that
are spoken out of context.  

We must never let the poison
of others uneducated wordings  
seep into the veins of positivity.

For words have the power to sway
the cognitive reflections of what is perceived. Thought and logic,
must prevail beyond the waves of negativity.

And we must drown out the deception  
of what may swallow  us beneath the fragility of our life.

We are more than others fears
or repetitive negativity,
we are life, light, we are the columniation
of never backing down  beneath the reflection of others collective negativity..
Poetic T Jul 13
How do we ponder the process of
a thought, a simplistic drop,
collectively yearning to join
cognitive reflections of said evaporation.  

2gether they are stronger in there capacity
to carry the weight, that as singularly
Can not hold continuity.
But when thoughts  coalescence
into a force of nature,
it can move the unmovable.

Or as water formed in conflicting
interests. A singular cognitive word
Can conflict in reason, one can
evaporate in another’s reasoning.  
Then there is the frozen logic that
Can be cold in reasoning.
We can hold fluidic reflections
But some will always find away
To fall between the cracks

H2O is the thought that we must
Be one but have opinions that can
Change like the metaphors of water.
The same, but in diffrent stages
Of reasoning they can mean similar
Droplets of metaphysical meaning.
We are one droplet, but different
Same pool but cognitively similar
Poetic T Jul 11
To those who’s voices enclose them in a tomb of closet silence.
Where we can look outward but breath
ever so deeply.

Yearning to clasp on to the words
of others but we sit static and hold our hands outward.

But realise that sometimes no matter
our yearning we grasp upon our own thoughts looking inward.

I’m me, I’m myself, I can look outward
but existentially I’ll delve inward
looking upon my own worth.

My realistic version of what
I’m to become.
My past may be scared,
deeply penetrated , never showing
the depth of my sorrow for I only smile.

Fragmented within my inner depths.
Waves may look placid.
But there are only fragmentation
symmetry of delusions.

We are all fractured, but never showing anything but perfection.
Even though we are just cracks
soothed out.

Decoded underneath softly cleaved decryptions of our showcase  of feelings.
Poetic T Jul 11
With every bead of sweat,
know that every step makes
a difference on the path of another. M

That every bead of sweat is rehydration
of vocation that even though
the world feels dehydrated.

Every moment of hydration makes
us realise that our steps count.

And the weight of the world m,
never holds us down.
But let’s us reach greater heights
through our struggle.
Poetic T Jul 11
We never see the rings degraded on the reflection of previous growth.

Hiding the reflection of woeful regression.

Where once was abundance.

Now leafs wilted and tired.

Clinging on the theft of reflection.
Life is a fickle butch and we must move or slightly remove ourselves from its course
Poetic T Jul 11
Well if you return to a tree that’s rotten inside and make a table.

It’s never going to hold up the fruits
of tomorrow.

Only spoil on the floor of tomorrow.

With regrets that will never bear the
Fruits of fruition. All will be seedless...
Relationships love contamination
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