“The Bottom Of My Feet As A Wallet”

Everytime I steer at the sun, it gets closer and closer. If I could only hear thy Lord thoughts: ” Do you know what I have to go through to keep you humans alive?” So yeah though I mentioned my name because we’ve been miseducated for too long; where truth kept in dark, secrets took form. Too many of thy blessings have been tortured and dreams ripped apart. You know the saying: ” big city folks do need a tour guide, you pay to learn.” You feel some energies, so much hatred even in some movements. Forgotten movements of clarity darken with black clouds via mental illness but in some cases it’s some 3 letter organizations. Call these thoughts wrong. It’s my allegation to be able to harness my obligation to overcome some personalized, computerized Mind bobbling tricks no treats as if it’s Halloween in the spear of the moments. So there for I have to share what I’ve witnessed. Giving blood praying and having mental practice as a gym rat. Scents of fresh bread baking at a factory was a whiff that stretched my mind way far not to mention beyond planets I’ve toured without an open door. Steering above at the sun has I remember vivid glimpses of Christ Jesus on the cross. My shadow is not behind me it’s beside me. I tap my finger tips as the wind blows. If I was to write a will right now, it would be sorry ain’t nothing left I gave it all to some. I know my wrongs and I know my, “Rights”. I not young any more, just can’t keep using the bottom of my feet as a wallet. Why pay maintenance fees for the temple then saying “is this love, is this love” as if it’s a Bob Marley mix tape? I wanna know, wanna know now? Cause I threw my cards on your table. My biggest excuse is, it wasn’t my fault. But I’ve been missing those days when I was young and free as Adele. *Exousia*