If I write strong words, it is because the time calls it.

I can not tell you anything you do not already know.

Our lives are not our own.



There was a time when we could believe. There was a time when-

Our time, that is the now, forever and believable-

our time reaches into the beyond and returns with only our hand.

Our lives are not our own.



We are woven with the threads of others.

We are driven to progress, with our forward movement-

predetermined, fated, constrained by our connections.

Our lives are not our own.



Family, friends, lovers and followers, all footprint our journey,

but complexity fails to forgive us for being human.

Our lives are not our own.

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http://bishopZ.com
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