Dear sweet innocent child of mine.
I am writing you this letter from heaven.
...
Life is a Marathon.
That you only get to enter once.
A contest of endurance.
Ran by both the weak and the strong.
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One night while in a blissful sleep.
I dreamed I took a walk with Death.
Down the road of life we did walk.
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Welcome to the city limit of poverty.
A city without a soul.
Located in a land without a conscious.
It's motto reads.
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.There are so any reason to hate America.
I cannot count them all.
You can hate America because.
There is no King or Queen to bow down too.
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I have a dream too.
Yes you were right Dr. King there is no doubt in this kingdom.
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Old Man sitting under a tree.
Old man just sitting there.
Old man just looking at me.
Old man what is that you see
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Mirror, mirror hanging on the wall.
Am I big, or am I small?
Speak to me for once, and tell what you see.
I fill like I am a complete work.
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In the middle of time and space.
There exist a stain glass window of reality.
Man looks through a large window.
Only to see a small world.
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How can this be?
From sea to shining sea.
Across the fields of amber waves of grain.
We as a people is still not free.
...