the windows of love

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Love is a window that is one often opened with white satin gloves. It is beautiful and delicate, made of glass that we see right through…Its something that we fear breaking.  But, love is also a difficult window to open at times. From the hard rains in the summer, to the cold nights in between… we cannot see through the dirt and grime. This vantage point, this view that we treat so guarded… it gets covered with so many different things that we may not see through to the other side. We somehow wish to protect our satin gloves from being ruined opening this dirty window. Isn’t it funny that in times like these we forget what’s important? How do I suppose the relief of fresh air will gain entry? During moments that make me feel so alone and without air to breathe? Love is not to be handled with white gloves alone. Gloves that protect our vanity. We so often concern our hearts with the appearance of love… we become people that have no versatility … love is within the labor of always being sure our window remains open. True love is dirty and bloody… Love may be presented to us with bows and ribbons, it may be so very worthy of the essence of honor and decorum… but in the boots I have walked or the roads that I’ve traveled … love takes work gloves and mud… love is pain. Love means ruining those white gloves. Every bit of sediment on its tracks…  each time we fall face first in the mud… so long as I can see you through my window pane… I can tell you that I love you.  ©

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Don’t EVER feel all alone.

One thing that’s dope, realization faith based placation like “hold on,be strong…& one step closer, narrowing the gap…one without baseball bats,but gats held by big skerred chillins.. hittin’  home runs, all fuckin day, no lights, been jacked. What rights give inspiration UN remembering GODS people?
I wanna remind you, In this time of struggle, stolen or elusive unrealistic dreams…. Feel neglected, feel let down. Please, feel unrest with gluttony, like here in front is where we would be, slam fuckin boots, you & me. Deficits defy our youth,filled with want. While eluding undiluted truth amid divided lines, freedoms spirit, representation of all but proof.
You misuse our America, disrupting REAL winners, while grinning sinners begin to get within…a mutha fucka, a cat that’s just too tired.
They misuse our unity, we trust in UN just, mother fuckers don’t deserve…
Our  drop deposited souls in 33rd, on a street named division, tear drops amass 1 half…the future cement.
NEWT circumvents WE. Division of our souls, without FDIC by a cast of dummys, aggregate called our dreams, while Lajuan lost his brother  divided by schemes. So fucking meaningless…For illusions of money.

They call it the “US”…amiss to forget… Is that how they do?Synonymous like trust, equiponderate to OUR love & companionship? Equal to like ME & YOU… US, same exact shit?? that name is …sorry, made immoral by these assholes petulantce. 

Feel abused and unthought of by hollow political  greed. But

Don’t inflict self injuries, not for them…

Don’t feel by yourself.

Driven by the livin  given by magazines… pvc misinterpretations in tragic “beauty” queens. Like feeding dreams to be a part of a scene nicer or better…than you & me. Don’t unlove You.

Refuse to dismantle  every pay stub or fear… of a parent beside them, self choked by her fear. Gave birth, epidermis now clammy & pale… turn sadness to gladness . Mom or daddy exhailed… without ease,  photosynthesized by solid gold criticized by dominoes effected by the players, diseased by purveyors of Babylons greed.

Don’t look down, refuse to
submit, keep you, keep what we got, un amid politicians invisible bullshit.

But please, In ugly times without the rhymes…

DO NOT EVER FEEL ALL ALONE!
. Not In this, we are beautiful, you are absolutely… Just fine..

but don’t feel ashamed & alone

While more tears drop,unrest develops…

Sam’s’ cops need rabies shots fighting  righteous pilots… of lil bigs like the good peeps in this nation. Even lead laced sleeping beauties, resort to the violence…Please survive its temptation…. more from head, thoughts of real gold… GODS LOVE preservation …Its them, don’t demean them…I look in your mirror, and I just love you, outta bed, broke of the money that tears it apart at the seam, if your feeling worthless,

UNDO,

Still dream of freedom,turn love anew..good needs preservation, in myself, Inside You.  1love!  ©