In the mist of a motley of people, I imagine the problematics
surrounding this sequel. Inevitably time shall halt the spirit
of life bringing forth a new era of strife. Imprisonment is such a
particular dictate to emancipate any man/woman’s fate. Touched
by the rhythms found in another poet’s promulgation, I dig deep
in my own soul to address the mental and spiritual segregation.
Policies in place to establish coordination of abuse, weapon utilized
by the class of bourgeoisie. I have elevated my prose to a
level of consciousness to intrigue, guide, and maintain my finesse.
Listening to different dialogues amongst different kinds of men,
I’m petrified, by the possibility of falling into the same type of
trend. Being easily manipulated through illusionary tactics from a
psychotic matrix of a racist faction, projected into the reality, as if
the pictures presented represent the totality. Confusion is bred
and ignorance fostered, perpetration of mis-education constantly
bolstered. Individual men amongst individual youth.
Is there really any difference? The difference lies in their
minds. Families constantly support their means of survival. By
giving themselves. This is truly incredible! How the psyche can
adjust to an environment of men over-whelmed with lust. Technically,
though, I’m not amongst others; yet, in song and prose I
place the description of one intellectually evolved into an individual
who has resolved. Promulgating to stand on principles of
truth while trying to combat the constant temptations. It’s a
paradox of seeming madness secreted through the veins bringing
forth the blue liquid, that automatically changes to red. It’s like
being alive amongst some of the dead, a realistic embrace of a
reality so rare. Nothing will bring a revolution. But the people of
equal, that establish a degree of camaraderie based on mutual
opportunity and unity.
