Back Home Where The Cotton Pickers Belong

5/4/2013                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       PHILOSOPHICAL,
 Written By; R,M,J                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Growing Up


                                 Struggling in a big city, I see now ,that,s what they do.  What I acheive never surfaces to be acknwlegde
                             or awarded in any way. That is wwhat this side of the world does, this side of the world demans all it can obtain
                             for little of nothing, or with the threat of war.
                                 To speak of the economy is a fools trip,this siide of the world is basically formed for a high level of Financially
                             established individuals, or to say the RICH.
                                 Our side of the world  seeemed to be a better place, altthought deadly to.  Now a days the rural areas are
                             more profitable,then the more populated areas, different paranoids are manifested through close association,
                             repetious surroundings.
                                 This causes friction in the atmosphere.  Ones unpleasant feelings of not being wanted there, seems to travel 
                            in that atmosphere, of not being wanted there.  Feeeling not wanted now I think," I should go back home ,where 
                            the cotton pickers belong".
                                 A place where I feel loved, seen careing people.
     
                                My home town where cotton was all around, the aroma traveling threw the town.
                                That sweet atmoshere that made us think God was all around.  With one hand he could work a miracle,
                              that was big enough to pass around to share,without a frown.

                              (    MISSISSIPPI    DELTA )    I Miss You ....

                              Back Home Where The Cotton Pickers Belong.

                               Written By: Mr.Rufus Murry Jr.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               
 

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