i thought about writing a poem. as i walked past a homeless old man sleeping on a bench, i wished him to dream of flowers, perhaps a lotus // i thought about writing a poem and tears welled in my eyes

junkies always say the same thing, how many people they knew are dead. 

// 

and to think i would make such a frett and fuss over pathetic slave culture work basket mouth kinda work, and not dedicate, commit my self to the knowledge and wisdom and pursue the soul! no violence! i stand for peace! in vis able. to see ! not visable 

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