As of late, my thoughts have lingered over greed's never-ending war on love.
All my life, the petty and the mean have lectured at me. In so many words, they've told me many times those who struggle are but criminals and subhumans, each of whom know nothing of love.
But in my observations, I've seen God's white aura emanate from women and men who stroll dangerously along broken sidewalks. These people were the only ones to ever offer me their *****, their assistance, and their ******* truths without conditions.
There's a purity among the starved, my friend. Innocence. Honesty. A fierce fortitude of the soul.
While those with great means must figure out new ways to ****** for more, it was always the ones with little who have blessed me in the most dire moments of life.
I believe a man who knows struggle is equipped with the tools to fight whenever greed tries to wrap its poisonous tentacles around his throat.
In that fight, the face of hope is revealed and true love is born.