Not like it used to be,
There’s been a numbing to the nerves below,
That reward touch with glee,
This lack of feeling can be extended,
To my spiritu’l self,
We only know what we learn from the world,
My joy’s not tied to the physical realm,
Better it wasn’t beaten out of me,
As an innocent child,
Or drubbed due to a life of hard labor,
Or love from pedophiles,
Or self imposed,
It’s just the way I be,
Insensitivity rooted in flesh,
Transposed to my spirituality.
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