I will never cease seeing you in the mist of every event.

I slumber with my heart awake.

I live in a realm full of men vexed by the uncertainties of the opportunities given to them.

Civilization is frightened by authority;

fearful of what the world can do for the them.

The methods are killing us while the networks are designed to enable us.

The strategies are given as a brilliant idea to a perfect world.

Men are being killed by their own existence.

We moan to say “lets resist” but the battle is already won.

I never had the intention of being a bureaucrat, because the government never mothered me.

Political parties paltered through ambitious idioms.

We allow them to win, whilst

Perishing in our own anxieties.

Black bodies hanging in the streets, seeking refuge.

Foreign fruits hanging on trees, never being plucked.

The rain is full of acid burning off the flesh, penetrating to the soul.

Burning flesh cracked at the edges wth disconcerting smell.

Father-son bond destroyed, and in turn we halt “be a good originator!”

What doesn’t kill us,makes us sharper!

I will not be a slave to this system.

Father, dad, paps, creator where are you in all of this jumble?