Oppressed is it?

The door swings open,
with it faces I’ve never seen.
They stand on the threshold,
their names, 
I haven’t learned,why?( givzah)
 unwritten chapters in the purpose of any life
In any matters , matter any out
Oppressors, agianst, matters
,it's what facts are brought to the t a ble of concern Reprecipitation" ("recepitation") is a chemical process where a substance that has already been precipitated is returned to a dissolved state and then precipitated again, often to increase purity. This method is commonly used to remove impurities from a compound, a process known as purification, by exploiting differences in solubility, according to this hear anonymous,though relations build ( then the  distant laughter ) mocking Reprecipitation
 that drifts from farther and farther away in no concern ,just separated by games played in the same uncharted territories where no map has been drawn
 No childhood 
No inherited habits,
voices in their every negitive gesture.
the expanse beyond the familiar fences,
They are the whispers of different lives,
We are planets in separate orbits,
each with our own sun,
our own moons,
our own  of gravity.
Our paths may cross for a moment,
journeys.of shared meals and whispered secrets.

 not bound by blood,
against mine like path.


the question mark at the end of a sentence,
Criticisms, of being 
the unfamiliar world seen through unfamiliar eyes.
 the possibility of a different story,
a different perspective,
 the quiet understanding 
 the world is so much larger
 than the circles we inhabit,
 the quiet respect  between us,
the acknowledgment of separate destinies,
each a universe unto itself,
unfolding mystery.
Possibly 
They are the strangers,
the outsiders,
the invisible chains.
Of the
unconnected whole,
moving, living,
breathing,
each in their own 
unseen,
unheard,
undeniably present, 

,unspoken rules

Listen ,

 wings, 
 a question mark, 
every car a pulse what might be  who tells a story written in the ink of a history they didn’t create, but must now bear. As a whole

The casual glance too long,
the suspicion of  that  door
 that remain stubbornly shut.
Too many 
 minds the tangled knots in worry,
The  constant replay of what could go wrong,
the future a looming storm,
And the hands that can't be denied
burns within  the craft,articulating
with biased laws,opportunities,
with pathways  obscured
world that wasn’t built for you,

silence within all. Could it be 

 the system that builds walls,
not with bricks, 

the consistent message that you don’t belong.
It’s the inherited burdens
Illegal legacy of struggle 
 the years,down
a quiet understanding 
 what it means to be 
to have your very existence questioned .overlooked
Its constant  calibration of words
Fuck your respect,tainting the  grounding 
He'll nah fuck these fucks of the 
 demand respect?
Disrespecting society
 they're  in the  hardships 
Because of all incarcerated 
 defiance
what's real in demeaning yourself to any
Elimination of  your own race.

rap, trap 808 bassline high hats