A father's words will shapehis son's thoughts like clay.You take a father away andit'll leave a young man handicapped.See most of us are in rehab, nursing a wound that won't healnot even a pill or a bracecould subside this inner pain.How can you run with a limp?We're the underdogs that never quitadapting to the world'scruelty and false gifts.We'll smile with no teethbecause we still have lipsthat speak old spiritualsand a contagious culture.What do you call the peoplewho are constantly oppressedBut still mimicked and obsessed over?You call them THE CHOSEN PEOPLE. -km