Oh my brothers how I love thee
Oh my brothers come complete me
I am not the pigeon-stool you think I am
I am not the foolish dreamer poet slam
Sons of servants see me as your kin
Sons of fervent fathers see your skin
Papa sent me from the Valley of Friends
Papa’s visions beheld not dead-ends
The kindly Master pointed in a direction
The kindly Master pointed to redemption
In the well from which it was propelled
In the shell from which I was expelled
Nomadic traders - long lost relations
Tragic traitors cast me into the lap of temptations
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