Generations of misunderstanding.

Generations of misunderstanding. 

By

Ramon

There may be a man who sits next to you as a child. For reasons unknown, he speaks with no clear direction. What could a man have seen, that would want him to stay as a child.

There sits a man, who’s seen the world turn from the brightest of bright, turn to the onyx of blackness.  There sits a man, who plays a game with rules constantly being reformed to the advantage of others. There sits a man, who refuses to sit and watch people continually abuse the beauty of life. Once a child reaches the state of being a man and learns the cruel intentions others play on each other for the sake of the next prestige of corporate advancement, the game of life may seem less corrupted if he reverts to quality of living as he remembers growing up. Everyone is seeking to find happiness in a country that was built on the tears and pain of all who knew too well just how cruel this game of life could be. The history written and told by our elders should be taken for print value and remember the blood imbedded into the soil we walk, sleep, run, play, and will eventually be placed once we reach the last level.