Gift


in the violent wild reality in which is my present. I find myself often crushed by invisible forces. The forest some call suburbia, the city, downtown, fifth avenue, the hood is a dangerous place to be human. We drink vodka on the city bus, we sell drugs to minors, we rape the watchful, we are betrayed, we are victims, we are a mess. How I long for the days when I was excited for the future. Now it’s wondering when the next shooting will take place. It’s sickening my reality. I doubt it will change soon, the best I can do is try and change myself. That’s all I can do.

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