my disquet.

Like a bo tree
I am firmly rooted by enculturation
I try fight the toughest of winds,
An influence whose sway I loose to defy.
Am a human afterall.
My fault is when I flag along
With your judgement
For a predicament
A victim by objectivity

For the incoherence of words inside,
I now sound like an oxymoron
In a periphrase i choose to hush up.
one made of words from diverse divides,
rendzevous in a silent address.
That render me mute as a silent letter

I am a human afterall
Bred in the orthodox social rhetoric
That teach how to hurt
And hope for love in return
That give a could shoulder
Turns it back at you
And wait on your cheer


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