Untitled

The insistence of your voice, 

speaks sureness In  melody 

calibrateberitly, in sync over brief ,

tending to is it may need the Ora produ

sudden light ,possible perhaps it's lit

In course of us would say or nor to be of not 

Refused,though the right leaves a tolerance of

Who tells you different, right or wrong, 

a compass spinning wildly, only to splinter of me 

,the mind of choosing and the unheard of, 


The invisible seam 

runs through the morning light, 

a thread we pretend not to see, 

woven into the very fabric 

of the coffee shop’s quiet hum. 

 

It’s the way the menu folds, 

the weight of the ceramic mug, 

the subtle shift in posture 

when certain names are mentioned, 

a recognition, immediate and deep. 

 

Class, a quiet architect, 

drafting the blueprints of access, 

not just the bank balance, though that sings loudly, 

but the inherited ease, 

The library breath is still clinging to the skin. 


Amazing guy always pointing true 

The presence of class, undeniably a handle on 

To things , things of matter ,mind, morally more real considerate whom stood  by your invest time

with unspoken thingsThinking about it carefully 

Then this weight is the extended 

constructed truthCompliclouds, 


It is the handle, they say, 

on the levers of matter, 

the polished wood of the boardroom table, 

the quiet certainty in the voice 

when asking for what is deserved. 

 

And the mind, too, is measured, 

the vocabulary accepted, 

the unspoken syllabus 

of what knowledge opens which door. 

The heavy coat you borrow 

A fluency others must learn 

in hurried, late-night study sessions. 


Morally, it complicates the landscape. 

To whom do we owe our truest attention? 

The ones who shared the struggle, 

the lean years, the shared, thin soup? 

Or the ones whose ascent mirrors our own, 

whose trajectory confirms the path taken? 


heavy with unspoken things, by objects that of 

The last ,what?¿ Of  holds ,thought of  sciences of cold drifts of maybe a path exists of  elsewhere for this fact of speaking did say I could not to say though assure its the  reassurance  to the self in where and how a vision is about a experience
 
Of the 
Self
Tobe for yourself ,
I'm not to say ,how

Those who saw the cracks before they widened, 

who understood the language of doubt 

without needing notes. 

Thinking about it carefully, 

it is a constant negotiation, 

a silent tallying of debts and privileges. 

The heavy coat you borrow 

that fits too perfectly, 
the things we never needed to articulate, 
Just a spoken word, was tailored for you all along. 

The path paved by others’ stepping stones, 
With 
class," privilege, and the inherited ease
unspoken understanding,  whom one owes their truest attention to as the initial message contained only a statement and no explicit request or questions.  

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rap, trap.  808 soul