THE MEEK ARE STILL HERE

A man's pride shall bring him low: but honour shall uphold the humble in spirit. Proverbs 29:23


When Autumn Begins

I know a friend who lived alone

who said it was the worst at first 

it was his first time just being solus.

I think that I couldn’t do that now

Alone is preferable but how to be alone?

The world is already so cold

and as time turns, I get old 

without much to say for it except

most people have somebody and yet 

loneliness, I used to call it my friend 

now it’s my enemy with a cruel bent.  

I’ve lost all my friends 

maybe I never had any, maybe I had 10 

and it’s easy to cut the connection 

but hard to look back, then again. 

And again, and again 

you’re the voice that talks back, my mind pen. 

But they don’t want me to say drug 

connotations spin the globe, I coldly shrug.

What can I say? My vocab flow short-circuits 

when I look at you who paste & glue argots 

of trendy repetition into your dialogue 

without a thought of your hypocritical fog.  

If I say it too loud you say I have issues 

but you keep me in a chokehold 

if I say it too softly you don’t even hear me

it’s a win win…for you

thunderbolts freeze in the middle of the sky

but I still choose to stand under the rain,

just so they can call me insane.  

themeekarestillhere

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I didn’t die.

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