Hereforth, my heart touch a anwer that rethink open thoughts of love. Where is the dark of the moon? which deliver smiles of cotton candy treasure. As the moments pass by fleshes of your beauty, overlap once and a life time touch. Forever, I hold a wink that dissipate injustice ruling. Listen to the platform that was build by Jim Crow’s laws. Interlace a underhand pitch that struck out a nation of color. This rapture of heart pounds of distinguish, flatters a one squat jump. A rate of underline hope. Many increments are follow by St. Peter’s reverse death. Th this a arrow flows beyond a wedlock motion. Replace by wprods of “hottentot” that shot a classic push intone the “Orange Grip”. Sprinted freedom form unaswered push-up. Structure consume belief without purpose endure silence X which remain present with a cultrue of nullity. Standing still, hands risen hearing the voices pray outward cries penetrate unwanted flumes that create black hoes. In between Willie Lynch’s circumvnet word’s To out reach a Herat Of Power.
Micheal Roston
DOC #63996
