The Kiss of Cancer.

I don’t believe I’ll ever fully be happy until people heed my long thought word,
Until a group comes together to commune,
on what I’ve now conferred,

These words endure and lure the minds,
Of the bulbs with voltage I seek,
I stir on that which has occured,
On journeys up treacherous peaks,

I speak to those who claim to preach,
And preach to those who speak,
The language of love that’s written in bones,
Of our ancestry and deaths doors keep,

It’s seeping and spilling and wreaks it’s spew,
On the breaking and broken pews,
On the stones that cast the blood,
On the people who bite off and chew,

This stew of sanctimonious slurs,
Of blurring realities hues,
This venom that entrenches your soul,
And hides behind a hopeful view,

I resist the kiss of cancer,
The lullaby cherubs of blood,
The proclamation of ignorant speech,
Of snake charmers themselves in the mud,

Why must one seek to sustain their stumble,
Why does one not tumble the testaments of time,
Why is it I am not with you,
Why can’t you see all is a similar rhyme.

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