What does it take?


What does it take to pull all of the good out of you? When you cry and when you die, arguing about the lies of all of that which is in between.
I say that you are good. And though the rest of the world condemns you as not good enough. We are standing here together.
Who among you is the prophet, the reformer that transforms your soul for all that is asked that you be who you were called to be.
I see beauty. I see wonder and power and pondering. I see and deep inside my core, feel those feelings that go beyond the day to day wondering of who we are.
And when you ask yourself the question of what is real and what is not: If we are not real to you then we are phonies.
There should be no anger in our voice, only our cries that beckon you to join us within the human race.
And what? Should we judge you based on your wealth, on your intelligence? Should we say you are or are not?
When your character demands attention for you weep on the slippers of a dead man’s shoes. In times like that: we should be with you.
In times like that: we should recognize all the good that lies deep within you and draw it out. It is not magical fingers on a keyboard but the reality of good and evil.
I seek to provoke, to induce you to declare who you are.
With or without pain. Noble to the truth, the instance of life or death.
In the absence of words. The absence of loudness or even of the wails of pangs.
I hear you in the narrow margins of the walls.
Trying to pull you out of you.

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