My outlook is an introverted version,
Observing from afar,
Searching for the perfect movement,
Certain moments have converted my perception,
Intercepted by my adept way of accepting life for what it is,
Regardless of fleeting feelings which intermittently flee. . . . .
And I’ve accommodated to it,
Because logical reasoning is a Hot 🔥 Commodity,
Like a spicy seasoning, Cayenne.
Ay te cay con el Cayenne,
hace que te calles,
sazon de verdades pa’ los que aguanten.
It’s essential to adapt a bit but don’t forget your identity,
Nor where you’re bred,
But be free from prior deceptions,
Fallacious ideologies may have been laced in by your parents’ mistakes,
Who may be new souls,
so new they never even knew souls exist.
Old souls are bold like the dry peppers you unfold,
then crush into a powerful powder,
Cayenne couldn’t be any louder,
Than any fight instigating shouter,
Hotter than a steaming shower,
To those who mistake meekness for weakness,
Cayenne hace que se callen,
Can’t handle the heat of the truth.
There’s always a next lifetime to flavor up your spice nice.
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