"preconceived" poems
We were misfits
the neglected ********
of a backwards world
that rejected us
not because we were sick
demented or dangerous
but because we didn't prescribe
to a preconceived notion
of what a functioning citizen was.
Not rotten enough to spoil
behind the bars of a prison
just competent enough
to work menial jobs
and drown our sorrows
at the corner pub.
We swallowed this hard truth
the same way we drank our shots
with no chaser
and at times it burnt
maybe even made us tear up
but we never let it beat us
(too strong for that)
We were beautiful
resilient beasts
that could carry the weight
of the world upon our shoulders
and it was heavy
but we would tell ourselves
"doesn't every world need an atlas?"
so we went on holding up the sky
when no one asked it of us.
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 1:21 AM UTC
quandering, pondering
and whiskey has become
first and only desk liquor. now
digressing to the Blue Eyed
beauty writ of this the final
page of notebook. and now,
reflecting on this early hour.
an hour when the goat's
head stares thru to soul
with always lifeless eyes. stares
thru this soul with lack of
energy, with entire days'
lack of consumption. and with
ease this one has been long
and gone in falsified attraction
of angelfaced Blue Eyed
matriarch; this one patriarch.
thought entirely conceived. contrac-
epted by reality of situation. by
reality in general sense, yet words
spew unfiltered with lingering hope
behind slanted smile. shying stares,
all the while watching from eyes'
corners. voices of all but her's
fall deaf; vessels otherwise mute to
concerns not of the Blue Eye's. and
here this one finds self lost to rom-
anticized thoughts knowing they can
be found sterilized via logic.
contradicting always, yet
no brass holding finger locked to
joint. and realizations of actual
place spears forehead; spears fore-
brain. disrupting what is preconceived
concerning entangled souls. hair falling
aside temples. point of restraint, this
one must end before depression catches
hold; this one calling abrupt ending.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 11:22 PM UTC
Cast me not
in any mold
of your preconceived
ideas and notions
For I am
A woman
With my own
Intelligence and Intentions
Contained
I shall be not
In contours
Predefined
I morph,
I change,
As I evolve
Not in any orbit will I revolve
Chisel me not like
Some statue fine
For I am neither divine
Nor a concubine
Label me not as
Fertile or fallow
Or simply
as shallow
I am not
just a mother
sister or wife
I am a woman dignifed
At times
whimsical
at times
emotional
I can be spiritual
Or plain evil
I am but a woman
Individual!
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 12:27 AM UTC
the world is too bright.
i am blinded by false smiles and laughs strained to reach that falsetto note.
that preconceived notion that paradise of the land brings paradise of the mind.
sand is still sand, and water is still water,
less we quantify their quality by purity and color.
sand is still sand and water is still water,
and i am still me.
the world is too bright,
so i filter it into sepia tones gentler to the mind's eye and swim to where the water meets the clouds.
i am drowning,
but not from the ocean's relentless caresses,
but from the world's relentless stresses:
beauty that is measured and calculated,
saturated with standards that burn like the sun and are as intangible as its rays,
a paradise built on sand as quick as it is to judge.
so i swim to where the water meets the clouds.
where the water is still water,
and i am still me.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
Climb aboard the Paper Airplane Express
Let’s fly to far away destinations
Where we land is random, it can’t be guessed
We have no preconceived expectations
Wings hand crafted by tiny artisans
Powered by adolescent dreams that ignite
Bright eyed smiles, marking the serene occasion
Of each and every planes inaugural flight
Hop aboard the Paper Airplane Express
No two planes are alike, each is unique
And not every flight is a success
But we can re-launch after a simple tweak
As our pilots aren’t allowed to play with matches
To date none of our planes have caught on fire
Though we have seen quite a few crashes
And apparently that little pyro bobby just made me a liar
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 3:52 PM UTC
I once knew a girl from a north country shore
as it was some place I had been to before.
We had met one fine day going down the street
each walking in opposite directions sweet.
We were both minding our own business when
an incident happened for us to meet then;
some elderly lady with a shopping bag
was coming along but got caught in a snag;
one of her shoes on the uneven pavement
nearly sent her headlong towards derailment.
Fortunately for her we were both there to
stop her from falling and to save the bag's spew.
As we helped the lady and looked at each other
we caught a gleam of light in our eyes to bother
all preconceived notions of what life was about
and it seemed we were both uneasy to find out.
For we looked up and away with sighs of relief
then back again at each other in disbelief.
I couldn't help seeing then the look on her face;
reflections of my own as from a mirrored place.
Or was it an image from deep within my heart
projected outward being therein from the start?
What happened next was not so amazing to tell
as we spoke certain words of greeting and farewell.
____________________________
Sep 30, 2023
Sep 30, 2023 at 9:38 PM UTC
Ladle Guilt, blame, and regret into me
Someone should convict me and restrict me from emotion
Crest-fallen, I yearn for redamancy
I tormented time with a turbulent fallacy
Condemn my illicit distribution of preconceived notion
Ladle guilt, blame, and regret into me
I can’t recall tasting stories without choking on hypocracy
For all that makes peace & love stems from chaotic commotion
Crest-fallen, I yearn for redamancy
But too long my eyes merely saw until the day I learned to see
Not importance placed like a trophy case but in honest raw devotion
Ladle guilt, blame, and regret into me
Promises sink like anchors, for their nightmare’s being free
We struggled finding solace and settled for continuous motion
Crest-fallen, I yearn for redamancy
If only I could do things differently
Cast a spell, think before I speak, perhaps produce a potion
Ladle guilt, blame, and regret into me
Crest-fallen, I yearn for redamancy
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 6:53 AM UTC
Open your mind to wonder.
Don't close it with belief.
For the spell it puts you under makes it difficult to leave.
The road to self deception, paved with preconceived conception, makes an evolutionary blunder that much harder to believe.
But in the natural ways we suffer and the things we have achieved, I don't think we should be misplaced -- mistaking all things as perceived.
And the self-redeeming peace that lives in uttered pleas for buttered ease -- like praying for forgiveness for the feeling of appease.
Or kneeling-bound to beg facedown for children with a sickness.
(Although prayer doesn't prove to cure disease or wickedness, it seems.)
So if you ever get a chance to wander and start to see the world with wonder, don't let it slip into neglect.
Nor impose upon another what you chose when you were younger.
Don't abuse your self-respect.
Instead, just seek to be free
and find the wonder in-between.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
What am I organically? Not simply, biologically.
What do I like without any preconceived notion or idea about something,
anything at all?
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 11:57 PM UTC
Perhaps we have no control
of our destinies
that all our choices
are preconceived
and if we are to
make the wrong
indecisions
they all lead to
similar conclusions
and choice is merely
a delusion
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 4:30 PM UTC
Trauma
Blunt force trauma
a blow to my psyche from your hammer of hands who pounded into my mind making me fear your preconceived ideas of my undying faith to your never ever loving thoughts about my, then, innocence. so many times-
Time
How many times did I trust the snake who hung, from the oh sweet forbidden fruit who's aftertaste bit me every time?
Who's deep rooted poison made me a pile of decaying flash, leaving me with a smell that drew all vultures to my feet.
Vultures
Every ******* one swarmed my flesh, biting, marking me with their jagged teeth that covered the tip of every finger, that kept the skin bloodied and bright red for identification.
ID
The ID of the body I see in the mirror, Jane Doe to myself, and target to the man who mangled my soul even more that it's vessel. Who's voice rattled my bones and hands cracked the chest casing under my already blue and pruple skin he kissed with his knuckles just-
Just enough.
Enough
Enough of me he became and the red of my skin was no longer his favorite and I longed for my red to change hue and I checked its tone when I dipped into the rivers beneath my skin and all I did was make myself a prisoner to the body I painted different ****** shades to make him want me.
But my red turned fall and I was no longer a color he could see, but a place he had never been and my characteristics were as mysterious as the reasons I thought I deserved red.
Red
Blunt Force Trauma
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 7:36 AM UTC
When words are not enough,
and the world won’t get off her back,
she dances the Devils way,
She’s a princess,
wait she’s a queen,
wait she’s an angel,
wait she’s everything,
a Goddess,
the hottest performing artist I’ve ever seen,
and she’s dancing,
dancing is her therapy,
I mean,
I’m not James Brown,
but it’s a man’s world,
even if Rihanna runs this town,
See,
she’s been suppressed all her life,
and I’m not just talking about Rihanna,
I’m talking about every girl that was ever forced to be a wife,
just to survive in this life,
she was touched by her father,
or brother or cousin,
when she was just a little girl,
I know we all wish it wasn’t,
but it is true,
so what’s a girl to do,
when she’s a clean 13 messing with The ***** Dozen,
this isn’t battle of the sexes,
this is war of the worlds,
wants to be a woman but she’s just a girl,
no No Doubt just burnt out nerves taken turns,
she never asked to be born,
with the burden of being beautiful,
but she refuses to conform,
she is attractable irrational and radical,
so when it’s all too much,
the stares and the catcalls,
the aggressive forceful touch,
the nails across her back like a blackboard,
and the moans become just white noise,
she takes it all in,
she forgives the man because he’s just a boy,
he is an angel even if he has fallen,
she takes it all in,
and she uses all of those abuses,
as the fuel with the tools which induces,
an allusive state of truth which,
allows her to move with intuitive smoothness,
and lose herself in the music morphing into what a centrifuge is,
separating fluids transforming what was otherwise useless abuses,
into a truth that cruises and confuses the stupid stooges,
she dances,
in a statement of glorious refusal to submit to their ideals,
she is more than a princess queen angel goddess,
she is fire burning up all preconceived notions of *** appeal,
the real deal,
dancing sweating cleansing her soul and her pores,
moving faster in progression refuting repression,
overcoming an obsession of oppression and knocking down all doors,
she is not a possession,
though she is possessed when,
she’s a dancing expression of how we all feel and more,
no words are enough,
she shows what we all feel,
she reveals what,
was before thinly concealed,
she is the perfect expression,
of imperfect circumstances,
she is poetic stanzas,
she is the paint on the canvas,
there is no question that she is the answer,
and all of this is made clear when she takes it all in,
let’s go of everything and dances…
∆aron L∆ Lux ∆
#strength #metoo #dancer #ballet #blackswan
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC
No matter how much my body resists it, the internal dialog never stops, cant destroy it. with my cigarettes, or junk food, or my bad attitude, can’t make extinct the thing that’s possessed me.
right in front of you
like a worn out tune of blues,
looking like leftover food, but not so tasty.
it’s a dream of mine, and in time i will learn what it takes to
make the seed grow.
never know? doubt kills like
pesticide,
insecticide,
boys at columbine.
with vicious and preconceived certainty.
no humanity or humility, only cruelty.
like the beast of nature, (pardon me)
nature of the beast.
the nature of the beast
will never cease. like the internal dialog, never stops. can’t destroy it with my cigarettes, or junk food, or my bad attitude. can’t make extinct the thing that resides inside of them, that’s possessed them.
Feb 15, 2010
Feb 15, 2010 at 3:18 AM UTC
the warmth from loneliness never felt so cold and cleansing
the warmth from two hearts colliding never felt so caressing
smiles stretch wider than the sky and i can’t help but swallow up the ones i hold dear
past, present and future all in my windshield and at the tips of my hair caressing the air i breathe
it’s always been preconceived
the pain the consciousness and the way we bleed
i’m a nomad in the desert feeling like an ostrich feather
freedom just isn’t as potent as it once was
and my dreams are a little more out of reach
but i’m still the wanderer whose ideas are clean
all the eyes that radiated love, i never forgot
because you showed me some kindness in places i forgot
the adventures that shook the time and the tunnels that gave us vision
i handled the concise misunderstanding that led to my downfall
it led me to a waterfall up north where the weather isn’t warm
saturation was gone but i still felt like i was home
i’m going home
i haven’t been there in a while and i’m sorry
please don’t worry about the nights i’ll never show
i’m co-existing with the night
he’s showing me the beauty that comes with walking alone
i made a home inside my bones
the address is tucked into the underlying of my sternum
i don’t apologize for the pictures i’ve burned and the bridges that ignited along with them
i live my best life when i’m desperate for a solution
we’re all just warriors of the unknown
traveling in a stream of nothingness trying to find out the art of everything that’s unknown
there is no home for the outgrown
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 2:54 PM UTC
I'm a fan of Vontaze Burfict
Though he may not be perfect
For he gives players concussions
To continue the daily discussions
Of the power of his percussion
To receive a hall of fame induction
That is where his value is derived
So what do these penalties imply?
That the referees have a preconceived notion of him
And are preemptively looking to treat him grim
Which gives his team a lesser chance to win
Which makes the biased referees grin
We are a country that idolizes quarterbacks
Every other position we're quick to attack
We only care about who has the ball
And laughing at others when they fall
We worship that which is shiny
And view everything else as grimy
Quarterbacks become celebrities incredulously
While everyone else is treated impetuously
The NFL is like America
Politics makes it harder to watch
The Patriots are boring and plain
They win constantly
The Bengals are entertaining and rough around the edges
They show promise and potential that is never realized
In a nation
Of provocation
I'd rather proudly call myself a bengal
I know that seems an idealistic angle
But Cincinnati provides no coziness or protection
You must always avoid discriminate detection
Of those that call themselves patriots
That drive blue and white chariots
And penalize players unnecessarily
For African Americanning
We really fumbled the ball
Because of the ref's call
That treats us unequally
How they have fun evilly
They can arbitrarily treat whoever however
But a concussion will make them less clever
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC
Life is all entertainment , just like a psychedelic theater, our thoughts and breath whisper reality into creation.
I roam in and out my worldless kingdom
Freedom's reserved for the wild and untamed.
For who cares to know, we could fly our way out as falcons , or swim our way in as whales. It will never really matter because it's all entertainment , while we patiently wait for the emanations.
Expectations emerge from preconceived notions and blocks the transmissions entitled to all sentient beings.
Like a collective prophet and a magnet , we learn to filter the commands to percieve the matrix. Finally to redefine and recreate a convenient path that is real.
Our thoughts and breath whisper reality into creation, i chose my fun as transmutation, life is recreational.
Words Of Harfouchism
Apr 29, 2021
Apr 29, 2021 at 5:12 AM UTC
Roses aren’t always red,
People just like to tell us they are
The grass isn’t always greener,
But we hope to ourselves that it is.
Preconceived notions
Stuck in our heads
Leave us confused at the end of the day.
Romantic ideals leave us unsatisfied
When things don’t turn out the way we thought.
Pain can be beautiful too, a more tangible emotion
Everyone knows pain and has felt it for themselves
Not everyone has felt true love, or even common sense
Some paint a picture of grandiose and harmony,
When the world only seeks chaos and dissonance.
Worst of all we lie to ourselves
Make believe that things are all right
When all we need is a reality check
And someone to stay through the night
We need to take the world for what it is
And nothing less or more
To see all the emotions, the good and the bad
And drink till you can’t feel no more.
Mar 16, 2012
Mar 16, 2012 at 1:36 AM UTC
I live in the land
Of the inbetweeners.
We are what
The French would call,
Bourgeoisie.
What the ghetto calls,
Bougie.
What the successful calls,
Day dreamers,
And what we call,
The future leaders.
I live in
The land of rebels.
The people who fought against their oppressors
Because they know the truth behind
Social Darwinism;
And the fact of the matter is
That no race
Is a superior race
Because "race"
Is a manmade idea
To justify the injust
Ideas of slavery.
The rebels who ran out of chains
Because they weren't
Supposed to be chained down.
The rebels who walked midnight railroads
To escape the clutches
Of the white man's burden.
The rebels who refused to stand
In one spot
When there were plenty of seats available.
The rebels who refused
to bite their tongues and
The rebels who refused to be spoken over
Because they had
A lot of important stuff to say.
The rebels who dreamt outrageous dreams,
So that the complexion
Of your pigment
Was never a deciding factor
In your life.
The rebels who refused
to follow unlawful laws
Because they were
Law abiding citizens
Only when laws were just.
The rebels who challenged what was superiority,
The rebels who changed the course of history forever.
I live in
The land of the outsiders
Who conform the
Preconceived ideas
To fit them
We roll small blunts
of white paper
Filled with the words
of novels and poetry
And blow through those books
Inhaling every letter
And letting it cling to our lungs
Flowing the grammar
Throughout our bodies.
We stand spittin
Absolute value bars
Rapping elongated equations
Of X equals
Y +/- root Z
Divided by root A
Times the quantity of
B - C.
We stick up
Banks filled with
Material and instruction.
Stealing all the information we can take
And try peicing it together
So that more than words
We have knowledge.
We **********
Our brains,
Pleasing its sapiosexual
******* with
Grammar and arithmetic.
I live in the land
Of the inbetweeners.
The people making history
In their everyday lives.
The revolutionaries
Who fight for even
The smallest of issues.
The individuals who stand out
Amongst a crowd of people
That look just like them.
The inbetweeners,
They who refuse
To subjugate themselves
To society,
But will subjugate society
To themselves.
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
Do not bother me with your absurd theories;
Reason, logic, and evidence have no place
In the heart of the true and righteous believer.
Faith in holy texts should be your guide,
Your faith should be blind, unadulterated, and quintessential, or
Risk a dreadful and eternal damnation.
If Einstein knew so much
Why do they call his premise the “Theory of Relativity”?
If Darwin was so sharp, why is it the most
He could up with was the “Theory of Evolution”?
The answer is simple, they really had no clue,
They simply did some scientific research and, in the end,
They came up with nothing more than theories.
And, what about all those archeologists
Claiming the earth is billions of years old, or
Cosmologists with their “Big Bang Theory.”
Everything is nothing more than
Theories, theories, theories.
Turn your back on these absurdities;
Trust, instead, the ancient, sacred texts
That offer immutable, unquestionable truths.
How ludicrous the idea that
The world is more than 10,000 years old,
(Carbon dating of fossil rocks is just mambo-jumbo)
The universe and all creation
Were made in six days,
God, tiring after all that work,
(Wouldn't you after working 24/6?)
Rested on the seventh day.
It's there in black and white,
For everyone to see.
(Assuming you've read the right version)
Men were created from a clod of clay,
(Or mud, but you get the point)
Women from the rib of man
(Which is why they should be subservient to men).
What nonsense from biologist and paleontologist
That claim we evolved from micro-organisms and apes,
This notion is total sacrilege, a blasphemy.
Life is too complicated, too complex to just evolve,
Intelligent Design is the only answer,
All the talk to the contrary is nonsensical hyperbole.
God made everything happen.
Read the holy texts, the truth is as obvious,
As plain as the tip of your nose.
Everyone knows that all the anthropological data,
All the purported archeological digs,
With reports of dinosaurs and missing links,
Are fabricated to fit nerd scientists' preconceived notions of
What they would like everyone to believe.
When in doubt, refer to the holy texts,
You will see all the unsubstantiated, ludicrous claims
For what they really are:
Trash, trash, and more trash.
Do not bother me with your facts, or
Your scientific data or findings;
In the end, everything boils down to more idiotic theories.
Have unquestioning, blinding, and total faith,
Read the holy texts and they will set you free.
So, the next time someone questions your beliefs,
Claiming there is no merit or facts to support them,
Remind them that to question the word of God
Will send them, along with their theories,
Straight to hell.
Amen!
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 6:19 PM UTC
Why don’t you just lay me down, how about that?
Why don’t you just lay me down on this same back that I’m used to lying on when I day dream about you at 2AM when you’ve long since forgotten our last conversation or the way our laughter sounds. How about you let me teach you what love really tastes like- like the flavour of my lower lip caught between your teeth. How about that?
How about you let me call out your name in a way that keeps you present with me before you slip into a well intended ecstacy, how about that?
How about you allow me the liberty of breaking the confines of who you believe me to be, a good girl -How about you let me show you that I’m not just good, that I am great.
How about I destroy your preconceived notions of me , or better yet let me destroy them between sheets that can be perfumed with the scent of your sweat.
How about this, How about I kiss you in a way that will teach you to crave my flesh and leave you restless, hungry for my touch once more. How about that?
How about you learn that a women can be more than flesh and bones,
That she can be a metaphysical constellation capable of absorbing you entirely, That nature is called a mother because she birthed a raw infinity of a women which you could be blessed enough to hold in your arms.
That drowning can be beautiful because my love will come for you in ceaseless waves. That I am a sacred vessel, that my entire body is holy and with each time you lay your hands upon me you will learn to praise a creator so devine that your soul will sing in your ears in the form of your heartbeat. How about that?
How about I teach you what love means with my body because words cannot adequately express the sentiment that I feel towards you.
How about that?
That’s what I wanted to say.
Instead I said “Yeah sure, I don’t mind” and watched as you walked over to her, kissing her in a way that caused me to choke back tears, cough in a crowded room and pretend that the ***** was to blame and not you.
Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 12:30 PM UTC
*peace
please*
private property..
intruder hurtled over
seeking who knows what
screaming obscenities
perfect pitch..
find little solace
but by going within
hide well beneath veneers
possible perfection..
but with one
so very far away
loss near calamitous
pardon presumption..
get over discomfort
pick up sad face
work with it
passable poetry..
may reveal a layer or two
if the inner eye ready
shove preconceived away
puerile pretence..
try to prove points
only to efface the truth
lose bits of the light
petty prisons..
all just deadly excuses against living
get locked in by the self
unlock the cell, throw key away
*please..
peace*
S T, 12 June 2013
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 2:52 AM UTC
I want to learn to be the girl that is so numb, that she can forget her past and move along as though nothing has ever happened to her in life. Just a clean slate; passing through life. Taking each day as it comes with no memories and no preconceived notions about the world and the people that occupy it. The girl too careless to react or over-react. The girl so uninvolved that she dare not take chances and risk ******** things up. The girl that is just there, un-noticed. Then I could play the part of someone that others can get used to having around. Then I could be content with myself.
k.d.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 9:23 AM UTC
Magic mirror on the wall
tell a story, lies are fine
and so am I
just the other day a feller said
my, what great curves youu have
cars and such were never an interest
just a stupid investment
waste of time and money
late late for a very important slate
a new one
out with the old, in with the innovative
get creative
it's impossible
too broad, minds can be narrow as rails
trains pass through
rumbling, rumbling like rockslides in canyons
you in?
Fun can be naughty
not like when you're a child
no
that fun was preconceived frivolty
but this **** hear
yessir, this is real fun
you got it ***
maybe spark some interest in the papers
words with more words
darling tell me a story
make it **** good
about a princess who isn't beautiful
but still pretty, in a rather unnoticeable way
and make her a ****** who loves fire
take it up
makes me all sleepy
when your mirror talks in such silliness.
Aug 4, 2012
Aug 4, 2012 at 10:22 PM UTC
One
Click
Away
Every dream fulfilled
A steady stream of pleasure
No pain
Ethereal sensations and situations too sticky for keys to shift into locks
After dark I sit stuck and watch
Perfect bodies in perfect motion no preconceived notion of love
Only instant lust
A lack of trust is commonplace when a face and name is just a waste compared to her waist
No stretch marks looming
Perfect teeth and a crooked twisted desire
All within reach at the touch of a wire
I perspire from the fire in my stomach
Unquinched thirst and unrelenting hunger
Skin on a whim is nothing more than another filthy playground we play in
And sometimes we play too hard and get caught up in the facade we don't have flaws because we dont press pause
We don't step away from the daily play of getting off and making way
For false standards
We all fall short when not on camera
We scar we bleed and we all dont understand
You're not perfect but I love you, I'm ready to be a man...
And leave this filthy playground behind.
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC
We come and go
like the seasons that forever change,
what mystery to know where the road
will take us in a life time.
If remembering our past,
it would indefinitely shape our future.
We are one in human nature
but our nurture sets us apart,
therefore “all men are created equal”,
but what divides us is a broken highway
to the shadowed valley of death.
Fear no evil in what lies ahead
for the future is bright
in mind,heart and soul.
A kingdom is beyond our grasp,
but the depths of our sanity
are determined by a sociological
and psychological point of view.
How would one determine
the preconceived notion of self worth,
all while understanding that is it capable
to lose ourselves in the laws of the world?
Choose not to live for the "structure" of the world,
but live for acknowledgement
that there is a tomorrow
and we are in control.
We will all be admired by
our strength, courage and beliefs,
even if your views differed
from other individuals.
No matter the sin that bestowed us,
these were our core values
amongst faith itself.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 1:00 AM UTC