KATETHEGREATISHERE

Let Me Be.... That flutter in the wind. That ripple in the water. That silent force, that moves beside you. Invisible to the judgemental eyes. Let me be.... I am strong like the Jerusalem Wall, but even when you do the littlest thing, it's like a pebble thrown from your hands. That's hits my wall and makes all the bad things I don't like to think about, crumble and fall. Yet, let me be... That wilting flower that stays in an eternal place dying by every hour. That one single feather that slowly drifts back from the skies. That disappearing memory that slowly fades into nothing. Let me be... Beware people who think they know me. Look out pe

                       Huey P. Newton's Dream I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in American dream. I have a dream that one day Black Americans will have a proper education, where they can learn about themselves through history of their ancestors. Where they will feel self-worthy through the institution of education for all cultures? I have dream that the oppression of black males in the prison system will decline and give them a better opportunity to not become confined to the federal system. I have a dream that the black and opp

What I see when I read the words 'falling grace' is when an illustration comes to me and it's one where a leaf is floating in a river where it used to be colorful; now colorless. I remember once ago that lifeless leaf use to hang high above all of the other leafs. The sun beating rays of warmth upon it. Dressed in rich vibrant color; red, golden; orange, etc. Now the cold sets in and it falls from its grace; where the leaf use to be rich with color now turning into an ugly ordinary brown. Then the wind carries that lifeless, tattered, and colorless leaf. Upon its journey it is recognized as the place, known as the "River of Reality"   A place

Morning What I mostly love about the morning is the beautiful morning smell that sneaks your way into your room from the crack window you have open from last night heat wave. I do say so myself Summer mornings are the best. No maybe I'm contradicting myself, it would be spring mornings. The Morning smells like pine tree and the sweet smell of grass mixed together. What a wonderful smell. Then it's the gentle warm, sunny breeze that drifts along and evolves you in a soft hug and carries on with its day as you do the same. It's not the wind or the smell that makes me love those lovely mornings it's not the birds chirping a graceful song, or t