I turned back,
Looking at a past bereft of an honest cover truth letter unto love given to anyone from the heart of mine... Never miming but reinventing up from the ashen wounds that garnish the luck of my soul as amputated souvenirs this poetic novelist has wilted with a daily antidote of chosen hope!
If the pseudo existence of self ever had a back vengeful bone it was against the swelling forever children cry amidst smoking sandcastle earth halls that are socially inhumane in their acceptance, A speech unto this world few dare to hymn; Amidst the morally humble violent inner broken refuge pieces turmoil wherein hides the invisible entity in whose silent throat beyond the well at the world's end voice is held, Captive by a lonesome pacifist sequence of choices.
In lieu of our participation in,
Changing the world...
One smile at a time
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