Humble Mouths

Raw Perspectives! Wordplay from active minds and humble mouths.


Maybe we are…
a different breed, bred amongst the greed, nurtured by the psychotic and educated by the sick
Yet we’s be… miraculously untainted by the iniquity, the meek and faint, starving for the changes nursery rhymes depict
That Enfamil and sweet songs sung to me at terrible 3, clung to me so terribly, stays faithful to the subconscious conscience consciously epic

Maybe we are…
The generation of degeneration, populating a different style of segregation, and the words my grandmother used to stock shelves with now rots the cabinets; malnutrition…
We forgot the lessons and blessings, sayings and prayers, countless slayings and slayers, that stacked bodies for centuries in multicolored similar layers.
Primeval evil brought devastating hate things to the natives, before them biblical men and after both if them cave deep boats with slaves and bruised up throats, crimson color dew lubricating the piles of Jews; Muslim men accosted in tons of tens and according to the trend the question then intends to say next “Now who?”

Maybe we are…
The vultures of each other, reminding our sisters and brothers that there is no hope no cover,
this man that used to be father for mother, knows her no longer while fighting to comprehend why he has a daughter and no man will love her…
No different resemblances of you will act any different from you, from me…

Or maybe I am…
The last of a infectious blend, gutted of my infections and stitched at the hems, thick with the wounds and sores from stones casted at me by loving neighbors who wrought me this way to be an ounce of future, while licking their lips and molesting their palms, hands, wrists… fixated on spoils destined to be spoiled by their own inventions of retention. watch for the recoil!

Maybe you are…
The envy, the life, the chosen, the right, the reason, the light, the barefoot water-bearer that bares all change for the unsettling furor, the compassionate juror, the balance, that falling star, or atop the candle of a once a year cake, that song the one that lifts the mood and understands you, it wears your emotions nude, that fuel, that smile, that wish, that child…


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