It is not about me. I am just a man, but it strikes the heart of the core of what I am. All my reasons, hopes, aspirations, and any other loose end particles, I happen to carry about. Not only am I injured at the core but each and every one of you must absorb the same amount of pain. As I sit here less than 70 miles from monuments, parks, and buildings that represent the sweet tasting cream of a nation and it’s glory. Mentally I tell myself to take a deeper inhale of the cool moist acid ridden dew of air that permeates the area in which I live. Home sweet home, the place to be. Men, good men, young men, old men; men of different colors, races and creed has drawn blood, sweat, and tears. For the dream, yet some proudly say that they are glad to be here. Yes, here were freedom is poured out like a soda fountain, and ones portion is only hampered by the devices, (if they have any devices at all) that one have to hold his portion of the liqueur; ahh yes, his share of the dream, So, after one has swallowed the cheese which has been cleverly mathed out to participants who do not have the time to understand or even care why their boy Johnny can not read. Even though he can take a trip any time he please. Let’s all rejoice and exclaim our liberties. As we give thanks that we live in the land of the free. Personally this is were I must take a moment in prayer, and ask my GOD to help me pay the rent…After all,
In GOD We Trust.
PUT UP OR SHUT UP
