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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My own epiphany, in San Francisco, came, learning from transformed people. Who rang my brains like the bells in a church steeple. When I found out that playing the victim in life is so very lame. I became, stronger, a doer, and learned life's game, What's that you say? You are the Rock of Gibraltar? Get wise, be transformed, we all play games. As a child you learned to survive by playing any multitude of games. The intellectual, the all holy one, behind these, is pure victim. Afraid to be yourself, some side-show of intellectual wealth. You quip people with with both wit or stealth! Once upon a real human being, you perchance, No longer can you play the victim dance. The jig is up, as they say. You wake one morning and have to live another way. It's not easy, you were trained to be unquestioably right! You know it all? The Book of Life? Of course, some insist they do in rabid resistance. Still playing victims, behind that witty, hyperbolic, flight fence! Some here or in the world think they are Nostradamus. In sojourning through life, nobody has the knuckles on all that is rught but oh, such arrogant fuss. Oh, but pretend they will! Watch the maniacs trying to destroy history and the public will. Victims all, such buffoonery! They are not better than you or me. But that victim dance may cost them or you, a fruitful life. Full of blood, tears and strife. I wish you transformation inside your own temple. Where you find love, generosity, the willingness to find it within yourself to build a world that works for all, and grow beyond the thorns of being judgemental. 11-27-2020
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