Chapter 1 Wits En
There are no smiles for the motherless child, nor for the one whose father has left him, while he’s still in the womb. Hell Without Fire Trapped in the cage of fury, no release soon to be found. Humbly bending in weary weakness, as the knees touch the ground. Children dying in countless numbers, and those alive; gone astray. Thinking that “hangin” and “gang bangin,” is the way to go today. Young ladies degrading themselves, by loosely giving their God-owned bodies. Trading the pearls of virtue, for being seen by the guys as “hotties.” Young men wasting their time, seeking? They don’t know what. Thinking it makes them truly men to get numerous girls and plenty of “butt.” Brothers and sisters fighting to the death over things that are incredibly trite. Friends and lovers reducing love to hate, all in the game of spite. Dishonest preachers, lawyers & doctors, cheating and deceiving us all. Gaining our trust and confidence, only leading us to stumble and fall. The soul tumbles down the steps of shame, wishing the world would repent. Time is nearing with quickness toward the day of final judgment. Above, there is grace and great mercy and fulfillment of our every desire. Below, there is despair and destruction, in between? Hell without fire. The Process Of “Up” Who wants to stand in the poor line and beg for government cheese? Who wants to be homeless or plead for help on their knees? Who wants to be out of a job and watch their family suffer? Who wants to depend on Congress for a monetary buffer? Who wants to feel useless and jeopardize hope? Who wants to be in need or at the end of their rope? Who, if given a chance, wouldn’t prefer an honest day’s work? Who wants to sit idle, waiting for depression to lurk? For those of you who believe that a person should just, “rise up.” I attest it’s not that easy, some of us need to be, “helped up.” Some of us are in a rut, out of cash and, “jacked up.” Some of us are bone tired and on the verge of, “giving up.” Don’t throw stones at us while we’re already slumped over. Don’t kick us while we’re down like we’re a dog named Rover. We’re not all free loafers; leeches or stinking losers. We may be slow getting, “back up,” but we’re not all lazy snoozers. Some of us are discouraged and need to be, “inspired up.” Some of us have lost our way and are temporarily, “choked up.” Some of us may be confused and our mind is just, “blocked up.” Some of us are out of food and need our kitchen cupboards, “stocked up.” Some of us can’t see our potential and need to be, “called up.” Some of us wobble while trying to stand and need to be, “propped up.” I’m reaching for my boot straps; the ones you’re telling me to, “pull up.” But I’m a little low on strength and I just can’t, “get up.” It’s not about the college degrees or the coveted corporate status. We’re all living in vulnerability, not knowing what life will throw at us. Some of us may be on the edge with a million reasons to jump. We need an outstretched hand- not the fatal bump. Some say, “Stop the government benefits and withdraw the welfare rope!” How about, stop the indifference, and throw a stronger rope? No one wants to sink in the poverty quicksand. It’s easy to be critical when you’re standing on dry land. Sure, there will always be moochers and those who just won’t try. Jesus said the poor will be with us always, until the day we die. But we must do what we can; of that, there is no doubt. One day you may be in a pit and need to be pulled out. Don’t mean to hurt your feelings, just want you to understand. We all have a personal responsibility to lend a helping hand. Help someone “up,” try to see them through. Do unto others as you’d have them do unto you. If you can’t understand the process of “up.” Then with all due respect; please, “Shut up.” Masters Of Deception Everywhere on the planet! is where they reside. Even though you don’t seek them, they’re always trying to hide. Masters of deception; is who they are. Don’t choose them as friends or you won’t get far. If you ride with them, you’ll never get to Malibu. Because to the nearest curb, is where they’ll drop kick you. They rob information from Peter, to slay Paul. Then they repeat it twisted, to confuse all. Armed with weapons of evil, they throw rocks, and then hide their hand. They build castles of chaos out of invisible sand. They’ll tell a lie on you to make themselves look better. They pee on the truth like a champion bed- wetter. They’ll send you up the river; they’ll do you in. They’ll tear you down, then brag about their sin. I’ve tried to help them - that brood of vipers. Tried to give them new thoughts, like babies in diapers. But they don’t hear me, I’m like an unwanted mole. They like starting trouble because that’s how they roll. They’re in the family they’re in the tree. They disrespect you they disrespect me. They’re in the church they’re on the job. Some are tight knit like corn on the cob. And when they’re confronted, they’ll admit to “nothin.” They act all innocent, like its lies you’re “puffin.” But the devil is a liar and the Indian is still Chief. Don’t tackle a chicken and expect to get beef. Just lay low warrior and keep your spirits high. Because one day the M.O.D will have to face their lies.
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