we danced
we sang
we strategerized.
some trained as cultural heirs
to the struggle.
some trained for their personal
struggles.
and a few trained for the struggle
into their jeans.
and some just wanted
a hug.
but
it was warm,
it was complete.
it was a family.
I miss
as I reminisce
but,
some fathers beat
some mothers belittle-
your family can damage
your soul.
and so wisdom
was lost
for pride
and ego.
now I am Ronin
minus expertise.
Bushido,
without code.
a journeyman.
free,
to fuck the World.
She and
me,
we together
shall make a Family.
theDeprevation 