that collect in this never-ending whirlwind, and figure out, which pieces will fit and which ones, will crumble up. and dry, and disappear Listen, if we liste like they told us like we told ourselves. This time We are sifting when we speak, through we can say’ the sands, and itis full of a lot of glass, not as smooth, as we thought it would be, or it is as rough, as we feared. What if we cut ourselves, on all the poverty, or homelessness, the lnunger, the wars, or babies having babies, cut ourselves and give it out, like the sun gives 0 ‘on racism, rays, cut ourselves and mother's give life. yo ort tet ie all around ‘And have you ever J We hope, that as long This is his story, and her story, this is their story, and my story, and a little piect from that someone, Inever met, but am waiting to s so Ican record, that story in my mind, and heart, looked, at yourself, ’ as we aren't holding and realized, the broken bottle, , that you we'll survive, don't know and be happy. what you want to be when you grow up, There still are the and you shaking knees, thought: 199 and wet palms, that were there Tam grown, up. from the beginning, Then they tell you and will probably be there, not to worry about it forever, ws every time we walk