This crisis
These jeans feel
So i let them sag
But now i waddle
And then I stumble
And now I’m

With the club promoter
With the lord of the land
At the words landlord
At the thought of injustice
At the REALITY that is ours
And hours I spend
And now my fist are sweaty
Because they’re held so

Are the bonds that bind us
We should hold our loved one(s)
Carefully to  that hope
To a better future
precluded by this dub of a wash
Twists & erratic turns today
But tomorrow’s fresh braids
map out zig zag paths
communities up on head
Tightly knit
resiliently weaved
Vibrant fatigues

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