Politics

That old concern as defintive verb.
Hasnt lost any luster in any era by an occur.
Power politics within pérsonalized compromises.
An empty courage in the realistic eyes.
A signalized threat as our natural sorceries
Most religious are spurn for this nature’s inconvience.
Yet some does realized their own vanity under this mortality’s summarized.
With all gains are valueless to everyone’s priceless life with you live, you die.

Written by George Eddie Burks Of St. Micheal’s Church Post 201, Chicago, Illinois.

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Untitled (so far.) by Geo E. Burks

Was that her I was thinking of.
Why should not I think of her?
She cared for that role,
The one in her life I was.
But she couldnt had me,
And I was contented as that.
Not as my pride nor my failure.
I loved her as my preference.

She did tried though.
To make me her more,
To make more of me.
I was already all that,
All that that had need.
From known pride and failures.
Remaking our preferences.

Yet, she wanted more of me,
The more she can entrusted as me,
Which isn’t not from me,
And all that because I was not had,
By a wanton desire mistaken as a need.
For I knew my pride and my failures,
By preferences that are known as I.

I did need to be that role for her,
Her friend, her lover and her strength.
The one who cared by caring.
The one who love by sheltering.
The one she can call reliant and loyal,
But she or I can’t had this,
Nor remake any of this.
These are my pride and my failures,
All done as my preferences.

This is why I was thinking of her.
Looking at that cage’s latchless door,
I made for us as our togetherness.
To make all that as what I had her for.
Knowing pride can easily marred this,
And either of us can easily fail this.
Fail that that was not meant to be had,
yet built by our preferences for our betterment.
A betterment for both of us as one’s loves.

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As you shake your head,
He jumps across a stretcher
In a bombed out home,
Violence, Violence,
Everything is violence
Cries the teacher.

Armies come and go and wander in between
Finding cities to sack
Women to rape
Children to enslave
Blood to spill again and again
When does it end you ask?

He laughs,
Violence, Violence,
Everything is Violence!

You were brought into this world with violence,
With violence you were formed,
With violence you were expelled,
With violence you were made to breathe
With violence you were behaved,
Prevented from committing more violence.

Look at the line of people,
They march and seem
To be peaceful,
But they march to hold the reins
To whip and pull
Leading men where they want.

They spill no blood now,
But will one day,
As dreams are worth nothing
Without violence.
Violence by itself is a nightmare,
Violence with a dream is progress.

Your whole world is built on a web of violence,
With violence against mother earth you are fed,
With violence against the poor you are housed,
With violence against the brown you have land,
With violence against children you are not questioned,
It just is, but is it just?

Hah! He continues to laugh,
Winding down a staircase,
A light in his hand burning off the night,
Violence, Violence
Everything is violence!

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