A Figment?

What is this? A figment of my mind, trying to release itself, traveling to thought, into inspiration that came from my imagination, oh my what a sensation of glee that turns to determinations on and on goes this cell, some sort of magical spell of realism, of self portrayal of me, as a human, no different from the other, no different than you my brother, yes I ware shoes, I walk so do others, along side their Mothers who have daughters that birth Fathers that raise sons to become men, men who meet women and become more than friends, two beings that love to the end, two people, who create a human that comes from within, a person with organs and skin, that my dears is called the human race, we all ware the same shoes in the end.

-Bridgette Edmond ©F.L.78.B.A

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