Experience and Lost Thoughts : The Wuhan Chapter

If only I had more to say and less to feel. If only this wasn't something hard to get over if only it wasn't sad and painful If only it was the easiest thing to do, to pick up and continue if only in losing, we could forget but we don't. We long more  For more long conversations,  Honest debates about trap music  The new world order,  We miss more,  We wish for more,  more time,  more smiles,  a lasting essence,  a link, a knowing,  and not this helplessness.  If only one last talk would do If only that is all we needed.  I will miss you, Owen, as you fly with the angels, don't forget to look back and smile, don't forget to check on me Rest in Eternal peace Owen 

A shallow mind and a deep heart can not co-exist  He rides off lip service  She toils in dreams of some sort of future Serpent long and vile  He coils her in  Licks her weak  In disregard of her  He believes his lust for her is enough                                           

I wasn't raised in a land of horses, No, where I am from  They did not have the lush for it, Where I am from  They did not have the stables  Not shoes  I did not grow up looking at mare's  Nor their fawns, not stud's  No, where I'm from They do not  Where I am from  That is a dream  A dream watched on my master's television  As my father cooked his food  Big eyes and thrilled  Weary of the car horn  And accents I hoped to have  Hoped that the private school he paid for  Would give, hope I didn't grow up in a land of plenty  No, where I am from  They didn't have savannah's nor waterfalls  We did not have hundreds of cattle  Nor did we mine for diamonds  My father, for all he's worth Sold me ideas and objectivity  As he fawned at the delicious injustice  His salary, he fawned  The white man he would say  They know where it's at Shining the glistening Peugeot  A supe...

When you swim in a sea of nervous systems, a polarity of personalities, unbalanced decisions, emotional throes, and hidden motives. When they tell you left is right to console your foe, they call a friend and it's no different.  In distrust we trust, yet so covetous to that which is a trifle, funny how labels change things. When light switches flip, just as they do, a questioned psyche, so lost in their act that you can not believe in your own. Own?!  Yes, you are your own!  Deflections made by others reflections, mirror what is not in you, their flaws are not yours.....  Thank God for God.  In You we trust!