By Terence Haynes We Still Here Still asking can I fly even though I was born with wings. I was born breathing but you leave me no room to breath. Socially distant long before covid you cross the street when you see me coming, like a prison guard was yelling in the background BLACKMAN WALKING! Took my place in my home and replace me with food stamps and section 8. Sectioning off my home like you did real estate redlining me from my realist state of being a husband and father to my family.
31 Publizr Home