WritePlace

your mind was made up centuries before you were born there's hatred in your dna & in the color of your skin & between the lines of the only book you've ever read passed down from on high courtesy of that great authoritarian dictator his is the world to which we aspire his loathing gives all our sin its flavor his is the apocalypse we bring crashing down like Samson us & them flattened to soup under the same crumbling roof your mind's made up you can't understand the rhyme or reason of time & seasons of lizard brains & vestigial tales & the distinct possibility that one day your soul won't be there anymore worse still perhaps it was n