The Self Criticism

The marmalade of an ounce of truth

Subconscious droughts from the upbringing of a generation

“Why is it that I always have such a burning sensation?”

The mother asked with babe in arms

“To think so less of myself, when it does such harm?”

The rhyme and reason pervaded the mother

Judgmental looks from the strangers that knew her

Helped to fester the growth of the subconscious

Oh but what of it! Progress is to be made!

Despair and jellied donuts to soften the blow: That’s the mother’s prescription

Virus that has no vaccination – really what does?

A disease of incepted deception of lies/half-truths/the cold hard cash truth

Spectrums dictate the value and degrees of knowledge herewith known and seen

The mirror is your friend and also your enemy to the present

Video is the time capsule of the moment past

And your thoughts are the prisoned liberation of the future

Emulsify thy being and presence

Lick the embers of the sun bright day

Rain will soon come and melt the smoke into the hills

And the everlasting mountain top

Where Cowboys and Cowgirls climb to seek

From valley to canyon to peak

Mortal beings continue to strive and reap

There is no rest for the wicked or for the angels of God’s keep