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Human history is full of trouble because religion has duped the human race and creates a lot of doubles all over the place. If I could turn the clock back in time, I would not change anything, but I would get what is rightfully mine.

 If I could go back in time, I would conquer the mountains and build a shopping center in the middle of the tobacco land; I would expand the livestock and plant a gigantic cane field in the back yard. 

I would develop the cotton farm and plant a sunflower field on the Lawn and pump cooking oil out of the belly of the beast and drain the color out of the human race and let it cover the entire street.

The color is full of trouble, and it has cast a sticky pigment on the universe and make us believe that the human body is made up of dirt, the British created this religious narrative with Adam and Eve at the center of the stage and the Prophet Mohammed dominating the Muslim race.

 The narrative is so strong that it brainwashes every human being upon the barren land; it started from the babe in the womb, and it came to life in the temple of doom.

 The scientist explains it and the religion fanatics’ shout about it but have no evidence to prove it. They continue to live a living lie and cast their breads upon the water until the day they die. 

The romans started it and the British perfected it and everyone was brainwashed by it and start to believe it. Thanks to the Americans and the new world that rescued the human race from it.

The British is bound in traditions, they have created much of the history books on the land; the color trouble runs through the pages and create conflict among the human races. 

Some people never overcome it, they die and go to the grave with it and a new generation is born with the color trouble spread out all over their face.

The stigma is still around and it has dogged some people in the town, color on food, color on face, color on house, color mingling in the dirt, color running on the street, color disrupting my heart beat, you must mix the two troublesome colors and make they stay together and if you think that it is improper let the different conflicting colors meet and let the Devil prowl around the street.

I would never change my color if you gave me a billion dollars. Let my color run all over the street until you accept my heartbeat.
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