I seek to not be the sweat and tears in the eyes and on the foreheads of people I love. I seek to be as a gem that is able to fracture pure light despite the myriad flaws that to lesser eyes would see me as a rock that’s good for hurling at sinners. Not truly seeing me because of the distractions of my worn pocked surface, asymmetry or ungainly shape. Appearences arrived or contrived by me because of trampling under foot, misadventures as a skipping stone or because I was discarded from the pouch of a perilous man armed only with a sling shot set apart to defend a nation from the shadow and mean of giants and despots. Seeing the gem in the hewn rock is a task for the rarefied, for the most radical being that imbibes reconciliation like a dryed meadow receiving heavens deluge after 10 years of cold, sun and drought. The sort of drought that makes a man forget what water taste like, smells like and feels like. Few, some say just 10% of the global pometric endeavors to see their fellow man from the positive frontal naked eyeball to eyeball position. Our personal stories sometimes has an individual looking down at and up at their fellow passengers. Stories given to us and stories our brain creates can sometimes cause people not to see another person at all. During a certain period in humans being on this earth there was once wildly held a consensus that ryhmed with lessness and reeked of energy possessiveness. It looked like a bridle on an ox but It was specially made for human blinded unkindness that rolled over but did not flatten certain groups of people; people grouped by metrics such as race, skin color, country of origin etc. . Which to my estimation are tools easily grasped so readily used in the lazy effete langour of those that would resent being labeled as the other. And they would much rather chose to smother mother, kin and or foe than confess to the egregious misdirection of their actions or countenance the Godless code they made good for chocolate, sugar, tobacco and morning cup of joe. And all the while there is no luxury just exponitial growth of the cosmic heavenly taxes. Death and taxes.☻

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