Goodmorning, Glory

I just came from the new place, where the support is high and the glass is supremely frosted with the tears of old memories. I just visited the new place where, the world is getting hip to the young African-American boy from Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. I just came from the old state where I was afraid of dying and now I am neither afraid of dying or being killed but both simultaneously but killing myself while I am living. I am in a new space, a space where questions arise so much more, faith is delivered by the ton and I have more years to make my grand scheme come true. I am in my space, my face tells no lies, but it is a mask. My face is a mask, yes my face without expression is a mask, it is holding in so much, the levy system of profile. My profile, leans on a dial, this dial predicts time on Earth and my time with the stars, this time is approaching quickly as possible as I know, my hardships are just currency for the bank of acclaim, I will soon receive. Thank you, *audience claps and we all get it, because we “ought” to, any philosopher can tell you so.