She’s a witch, burn her, the ideas that fill the mind with dread, bad thoughts and the ugliest of thoughts, where do they come from, are we sidled with them, or is it the way the ideas are drummed into the minds of some, and then leak out. She has to have a motive, why is she with him, he’s into men, the stuff they do, can you imagine it, ugly, he likes her, she deserved it, the closed minds and those that pass this ugliness on, who are they.
Solomon was in the company of a lost soul, searching for acceptance, what, who will listen, a voice that hears and does not turn away. The pre conditioned mind, full of the bias, separates and divides, making a damn good living, these di
visionists, does it remind you of a politician, grabbing whatever attention they can, regardless of the affect their words have on anyone, young old middle aged rich poor or normal.
Love had been straddled with notions of performance, well, do you know what those type do, they are only interested in sex, the mirror was looking particularly rusty this morning, Solomon wondered why there was so much bias, till he thought of those women, deemed to be witches, and then burned at the stake by those closed minds, amen.