You don’t have what it takes to burst life seeds from cotton fibres in your stomach, your womb was not created to hold in the rivers of the tears of continental Africans, nor house the heartbeat of nations marching in your blood, your fluids were never meant to flood the passages of any element more than oxygen, you were never the instrument of creation that God planted life in, so spin this water-wheel to nourish the river, damaging everything from maiden to mother-giver, from laden tree to new-born delivered, where the only thing that would suckle you are leeches that consider your flesh a feast in their fix of an ego to leak their eagle-type pride from. Life does not derive from you and you should stay quietly in your place, assuming you remember where that is.
I promise I am not a man-hater...just that some things inspire me more than others...
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