Monday, 4 April 2011



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In the deepest corners of my stomach lives hunger, my hunger that divides me from satisfied men.
Knocking through the thick layers of the dwelling wherever my hunger settled, losing my satisfaction along the corridor to a banquet of many dreams.
Nourishing on unfilled bones of destiny, leaving me yearning for the taste of achievement
Craving for transformation, licking my lips for hope and opportunity.
Baffled with the bareness of my skills, I push aside my failures and bring fourth my success.
Seeking the truth from my heart, hearing the calling of my instructions from my unused gifts. 
Indulged in the comfort of my comeuppance, the thoughts that get me moving, Touching me is the unconscious memories of my future.
Climbing up the mountain of uphill struggle, pulling my legs is haters, I see the hatred in their eyes, I laugh in their abhorrence.
I've written success over a million times wishing for it to jump into my reality, splashed and slapped in the face by the ink of disappointment.
Now it’s structured in the hands of my intelligence, molded in the hands of my understanding, blessed in the hands of god, sealed in the hands of secrecy, duplicated in the hands of my dreams and loved in the hands of my admirers.