Lawd Jesus the sea done knocked on my door...
Angry waves, sharp teeth chewing on undigested promises, under handed gestures, open wound festers in the corners of idle minds..
Lawd Jesus the sea done knocked on my door...
Black waifs wonder, black waifs wander like refugees, lost in the Ninth Ward, speaking the unspoken "ism". Race takes place when black is the face, that familiar stranger. White collar crimes of passion produced a shotgun marriage of the haves and the have nots. Leaving illegitimate children with no last names....
"For you have the poor always with you, but me you will not always"
John 12:8