To pay a price to say that I am one of you, then to learn, that it all
was a lie told, a fantasy. Fifty percent of what man had taught any outsider
or 90% of the outsiders was taught only the basic,s.
The price that has been, and they still are paying is gigantic. Those others
are charged for them teaching, them the language, the air they breath, the light
they see,and many others that they call conviences.
So as we stride to acheive, or reach a certain level, there are those around
us, with ledgers billing us each step of the way. So as to continue to surpress us
to a nothingless level.
To not be from a direct blood line, mean,s, regardless what you or I do your
level will never change. It seems Mid-evil,although although it,s still here, a low,
This is what lingers in,that atmosphere. To stay around long enough,to recognize
this, is another threat.It is said that to play dumn is the, safest way out of that
So we stride to acheive, a goal a certain level,and then,to be informed, that
everyone cann,t be on top,thrown can only hold so many. The back log is Mid-Evil.
So we continue to pay a price, and still we are not one of them. We are who
has been called Other,s.
The Price To Pay; AND STILL NOT BELONG.
In Memory Of The Other,s
Written By : Mr. Rufus Murry Jr.
Alle Rechte an diesem Beitrag liegen beim Autoren. Der Beitrag wurde auf e-Stories.org vom Autor eingeschickt Rufus Murry Jr. Veröffentlicht auf e-Stories.org am 02.08.2012.