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How did it come to be, who allowed it?

 

 

How was hope gagged by the morbidity of this false democracy?

How did it come to be?

 

How is it that petroleum was changed for weapons?

How did it come to be, who allowed it?

 

It is inevitable to react.

 

There is in my soul a line that lies between the darkness and pain, poking me, and this condition pushes me to the limit in where I bleed and I fall to pieces.

 

So ...

I'm not one who stays quiet, I am direct. I'm not of those that speak just for talking and feign, nor forge a personality to feel superior to others, nor one of those who will do anything to be noticed.

 

I walk with a high moral conviction, with equilibrium regarding the legitimate differences that must exist between human beings. Depending on the basis of how we respect ourselves we will be respected by others.

 

We cannot but through peace achieve freedom

 

Although these are difficult times, we can not allow our right to dream to be taken, for this reason it is imperative to understand that the pathway to life is freedom.

 

Moral freedom is the freedom of life.

© Noris Roberts

 

poem

◄ It is my silence!

Not yet... ►

Comments

tony sheridan

Thu 29th Nov 2012 00:41

Love this! Take care, Tony.

<Deleted User> (6895)

Fri 31st Aug 2012 21:11

Hi Noris-we are in total agreement
with and very much enjoyed this poem.

Thank you.xx

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