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I was in need

of much to feed

Off what I cannot mention

The delacasy, finger treats, of purity

I found imposition

I was in need, of nothing more I filled myself with apprehension

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I do not write poetry as a practice. It is something I do to reap Insight, or document it in times of peace. In accordance to this pushing myself to work through the little inspiration I had for this one, I've not given it much second thought or anything to do with pure , humble explorations and reflection.

This was a quick one, but perhaps in the future I would look back it it and feel there was a lesson, wisdom I had gained throughout my time in processing and reflecting

Here goes

It is easy to remember,

just as the minds shardes envelope struck suckles of every ember,

And oh, the disilusioned send off,

The constant disentangled locket mind

My constant wrath it wished to surrender,

To images of ease,

Not to confront

the true man kind

I saw a family like me from a far place

They dressed the same, brother sister of another race

In my amazement I sent off the forever truth,

That what is known of man is not the same as what I love

That what is known of man is but irreverent masks

Not in their great effort, but my preformence past

I let myself be storied into the admiration

Of all that fevers loss the virus of translation

The sister turned to him to let off little steam

They joked a few strange terms, the common ones to fiends,

of what is bad and

what is vulger and what is brief

I do not hate them simply

I do not hate the world

In quivering and boiling heat

I did not preach the cold

In little stories lost and minds entranced now list in thought

I did not, Idid not,

I did not hate each verry thought

But when my sight came to the everlasting rot,

The two of subtle disdain they offered me a spot

In there very ritual, a soft soda they bought

I did say no, but not of critical intentions

I did not hate them simply , going without mention

All that occured diseased my mind to forsee precise tension

Of lifetimes in that little seat of surgical preventions

From the pain of my auntie weak I was just yet a sponsor

Sister went in with none to eat and auntie came out smiling

We left the room,

my mind of doom,

And still in recollection

I did not hate them simply

It was a few, an awfully few

But raging, resisting need for love of deep perfection

None that exist in little life the before that I mention

I was in need of much to feed off what I cannot mention

The delacasy, finger treats of purity, yet I found imposition

I was in need, of nothing more I filled myself with apprehension

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