It makes me… Me.
Drop delusion:
The core of who I am
I bleed
I think
I breathe
I am
Poetry.
Soul Identity Race Gender Preference Social Class
This remains within my grasp – Do you feel the rhythm of the beat of me?
I see
A glimpse of God and Heaven
When I write,
And even when I don’t get things quite right
I’ve got this.
And there are times
When I still operate out of
Ego & Pride
Trying to figure out which
Parts of me to show & which parts to hide
It is impossible
To deny
This one thing.
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