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Lit by the evening’s dying light,In our little town, by the cross-road,Gnarled fingers working his plightWas a cobbler of old.   He plied his trade from his ramshackle store,
Forget the blood lines that make our trees bright red Forget the colors that highlight our lively skin Brothers, sister, mothers and fathers We are all something bigger, better and stronger Yet…
I spent the year in recovery No, not from a drug-filled accident But instead by love-filled precedent, idealiogical, heaven-sent    Empathy was my violation Agape, Philia, Philia
Lifes not about what you stand to loose or gain But Who you stand for Why you stand What you stand for Where you stand And How you stand. Life is the sweet memories you make with others
Life isn't always treacherous There is an essence of altruism in our biological disposition There are people out there who have a vision, To confront injustice and end human schisms,
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