It is hardship that makes clear who the "fighters" are.
Letting off ammunition in every direction, Allah is my only protection. But wait a minute, Saddam Hussein prays the same.
Since fat crayons, I write and display chaos. My plan is damage.
Rhyme written in graffiti xeroxed on blueprints, students influenced are now a nuisance.
Where the poison wind blows a deadly plague spreading negativity, viciously unto every city.
You know that we are lost when babies are addicted to drugs when they are born.
Mic is volcanic, rhymes spread across the planet, I send out the scribe, now the vibes gigantic.
You all say the same thing. When something bad happens, everyone tells you to forget about it. But, I don't think you can forget that easily. You may be able to pretend you've forgotten, but I don't think anyone can completely forget.
Do the thing itself. Don’t pay much mind to critics or what anyone says about it. Just do it, in any form possible, and watch others doing it. Take it in viscerally, get it by osmosis. Don’t ever read your own reviews, certainly not the good ones.
Photography could have been invented in color. Colors existed.
As an irrigator guides water to his fields, as an archer aims an arrow, as a carpenter carves wood, the wise shape their lives.