But For The Journey…

BUT FOR THE JOURNEY, A SLAVE HAS A HOME.

Paving the way into the log all days,

Weary could not be weirdo,if they don’t make ways.

With the mighty river that normally flow out of their eyes.

If not for the tides,a slave has a father.

Their understanding viewed us tartar. But,they won’t dabble into our matter.

With the suffered complexion in the hostile weather.

Hurling an abusive words on them,without a word of an appreciation.

Their rights are not for something nutritious, and if there is no washing rapport,they have no right to our pot.

If not for the tides,a slave has a father.

When their stomach are not satisfied with maize,their mouth would not ask for flour.

No wears without your permission and their obligation must be perform without omission.

No courage to shower,

Unless,they want their life in tower.

Their labor must be long before they eat a tart fruit with a song.

If not for the tides,a slave has a father.

I am asking if they were born into poverty or their destiny neglected their property?

What of those that have lied to them with legacy? For their believe to axe down ignore-ran-see.

But,they ate up their future by swapping them with currency.

I say; if not for the tides,a slave has a father.

-Dearest,

2018.