Peace Be Still

The clouds perch in the sky laughing at humanity’s retardation. Every time it rains I can almost hear them saying, “They are the constituents of their own nation and they say that they prayin but then they make their own way and make their kind their own prey.” I keep my umbrella raised to defy them to their face, unlock my case to plead it, to prove it as necessary as the sun’s rays. If we don’t keep the wars going, and stay ready at arms, training up soldiers to keep us safe from harm, we’ll fall far, and someone will put us behind bars. Sacrifices must be made. A price must be paid. Every man knows that it costs many to keep devastation waylaid. The droplets crash the ground. My eyesight hits the sky. What a sight, what a sound, my protection hits the ground. I can hear clearly now, but now I don’t wanna. I can’t accept that the answer to life cancer and false karma, is peace like someone sitting in a sauna. For my every rebuttal, they return up my butt hole, I know. I know and thats why. That’s why my co-sign is a crime. Being fierce is one thing – being a terror is out of line. Can’t play the villain, and then try to be the hero. Can’t take the violence up to ten, then feign like it’s a zero. Mucho dinero. Relinquish ourselves, and we might discover that we’ve gained the whole world. … I pick up my umbrella and the cold rain splashes all over me – I shudder – and continue my cloned pace down this responsibility forsaken street.

**
~The Wordsmith

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