Each generation seems to invent its own reasons for war.
Can you become The hope I need? Can you help me be More than it is written in my future Or past? Is there another me to find?
I couldn't speak well. I went to speech therapy for 10 years. And I was sort of frustrated in that sense.
My dad was a janitor for U.S. Radium Corporation, and he stayed there for 37 years. So he didn't read.
Within the black community, roughly 60 percent of children are born to single moms. Moms don't have the emotional wherewithal to deal with their children. Their English is atrocious. Their speaking is atrocious. The dropout rate is horrendous.
What did I do? I walked into a drugstore to look for some mints, and then I walked out. What was wrong with that? I didn't kill Mr. Nesbitt.
I wrote for magazines. I wrote adventure stuff, I wrote for the 'National Enquirer,' I wrote advertising copy for cemeteries.
I write in a small office at home.
If you know you don't have a win, then there's no use for you being in the game.
My life is not packaged, Not tidy. There are leftover strands and jagged Edges that cut even my friends.
Looks to me like you've been making garbage for a while and dragging it with you. Now you need to get out of here, and that garbage is weighing you down.
But now, like a fallen sparrow On a golden chain, I'm forever bound in shadow, A prisoner to my pain.
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