over me

I find myself in escape mode, like the generation before me, not in to much of a different way.

I am settled, i am set, i am here only at financial unrest, which seems to be to common to mention.

i am fed, i am warm, and if there was not a government,

then i'd hope i could find people to plant seeds with me.

And start walking somewhere.

When with the collection of words, things, and stuff...end?

I am consumed by my surrounding,

but see no path

from where

i say i am

there is

something bound

there is something

boundless that we must

find within ourselves to let go.

we are

not limited

to the expectation

of generations of slaves

being breed and born under

red, white, and blue skys fall

over me.