You've lost your control
And by observing you ,
I can see you don't like it.
I can see it now more than ever
And it frustrates you.
The manipulation doesn't work.
The tears don't work.
Everyone's up to you.
The lying doesn't work.
What more can you do?
Cutting bits and pieces of the truth to create a tale that suits you.
What else will you say or do?
Losing control. You.
Slander me if you may,
But I'm still gonna love you.
I'll love you at a distance and will never trust you.
The air of arrogance drops to your stomach when all the tactics you've used,
Works no longer and all that's there is the truth.
Losing control( you)
Jewel Webber (copyright )
Pick up a book. Seek knowledge. When I'm out and about I sometimes over hear conversations. The things people believe. And I'm awestruck as to how others soak up bull and run with it. "The blind leading the blind." How can we praise our prophets, leaders, etc ... And live a life 360 from what we boast about. Do you remember when the Pharisees said. "We have Elijah "? They fought hard to destroy a man who casted out demons , healed the sick, fed the hungry, performed miracles, etc..... They were even awaiting for such a person according to their prophecies but he didn't fit the mold of what they wanted or expected. And "he" posed to be a threat to the control and power that they were used to. So, wether he was God in the flesh/a prophet or whatever, he was a threat. Jesus called them "white washed tombs ." John the Baptist called them, "Broad of Vipers." Some of us are praising our leaders, prophets,presidents, etc... All the while having our foots on the necks of our own people. Our people who bleed the same blood, cook the same foods, breathe the same air,.....Claiming to be originators, creators, teachers of things they know absolutely nothing about.God is going to judge you. God is going to judge us. Watch and see. Tired of seeing dumb stuff. I'm tired of being dumb and acting dumb. How bout you. Seek knowledge. Just a thought.
Flashback: Sitting at the exit of the kitchen going towards the backyard with Mama. In the front of me is a coal pot with coal burning and an iron comb heating up. In her hand is some Dax. Mama is iron combing my hair. She never used the stove In the kitchen for that. I can hear and feel the bubbling of the Dax as the hot iron comb ran through each section of my hair. It had a sizzling sound. She always preferred the green or black Dax. Memories with mama In Barbuda.
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