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Tradition laments elegies of those who perpetuated the thoughts that held
me in the womb of darkness. I want to adjust my rear-view mirror and focus.
I would like to be free to think my innate thoughts-I can't dine on your crumpets and vomit; For none of your ingredients have agreed with me.
I need to be free to think my innate thoughts-and feel the true genius of myself, my GOD awaits me.
How long must I die a thousand deaths? In this Matrix of doom, yet you subscribe to every issue and never care about the depth of your soul.
After all the damage and hatred has been spewed you cry, and return to the vomit. My eyes and ears are closed I will not give up (High John the Conqueror) again.
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Tradition laments elegies of those
Who have perpetuated the thoughts that held
Me in the womb of darkness.
I want to adjust my rear-view mirror and focus.
I would like to be free to think my innate thoughts-
I have dined on your crumpets, and vomited;
For none of your ingredients have agreed with me.
I need to be free to think my innate thoughts-
and feel my true genius, my God awaits me.
How long must I die a thousand deaths?
In this matrix of doom, yet you subscribe to every issue
and never care about the depth of your soul.
After all, the damage and hatred has been spewed you cry,
and return to the vomit.
My eyes and ears are closed to you:
I will not give up (high john the conqueror) again.
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2015
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