Paris, November, 13th the year, Two Thousand and Fifteen
There is no bigger a coward than one who will shake your hand, pass you on the street, smile into your eyes, and hold hatred for you in their hearts.
With heavy hearts…so many morn. Disparaged over the needless loss of life. The unending hatred…that seems to have surfaced and will not go away.
Today, had been a day, to knock on doors, spread the good word. Speak of democracy as though it were,
…an everyday occurrence that we all enjoy
Yet, truth be told, the knocking, the needling of non committers and/or the honest pursuit of happiness,as the Constitution of the United States, depicts, we should all have…and, so on, and so forth, came with difficulty today. All the good tidings in the world could not convince my heart…that my world is on the brink of turmoil.
No way around it, violence begets violence. Whether it is the silent deadly kind of emotional abuse. The obvious but sometimes unquestioned kind, such as, physical abuse. Or, the mass killings of innocence. People none of us may know…but can somehow relate to…nonetheless.
Oddly enough, the two houses, I will never forget today and for days to come..were what I needed to reflect.
As I strolled the streets…asking for votes…the following experiences will forever remain in my soul.
The first house, had a deer strung up in an old oak tree. Hoofs pointed to the heavens. Akin to a lynching gone bad. This deer had been gutted and left in the woods to rot.
The second house held a new widower…it had just been one day before, that she had lost her husband of 49 years.
Backing down her porch steps, the pain in the widower’s eyes still ravaging her mind, I offered condolences and prayers.
Death had hung about my walk today. As if it were a reminder of things I take so blatantly as truth.
…the world is basically good. It is just thinking that makes some of us take another turn…
Prayers and thoughts to those who have fought in battle. Prayers and thoughts to those who found themselves in battles…in which they did not choose.
Old pirates, yes, they rob I;
Sold I to the merchant ships,
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit.
But my hand was made strong
By the ‘and of the Almighty.
We forward in this generation
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
‘Cause none of them can stop the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look? Ooh!
Some say it’s just a part of it:
We’ve got to fulfill the book.
Won’t you help to sing
These songs of freedom?
‘Cause all I ever had:
All I ever had:
These songs of freedom,
Songs of freedom.