Description: stories of injustice, struggle, weakness, and grace by matt kent, child of weakness
Weakness stretches out as endless rolling plains. One thing do I see among those hills. Like clouds and leaves and birds and insects twisting in chorus around the expanse. Your grace.
Too woke to be silent. Too comfortable to fight. Complicit in the violence. All talk no bite.
As the grind passes by or so they say my mind wanders out to a far off place Or is it near? It’s always here The far off place is always near Far from reality or is it just that? Should I be angry when I get snapped back? In this place I live, in this space I survive but it is in the other that I feel so alive So repetitive so mindless when I live to survive It chokes out the reality in which I thrive So, what goes on inside my mind? It’s the place where things are hard to find The place where dreams are bo