Monday, August 15, 2011



There are no written words, which can interpret or express my longing.  This void, my void goes much deeper than love it self.  It’s my life, and I pray the death of me.  The only thing that I can claim hold to, as mine alone, “I created this,” from out of my dreams.  I would boast, with such arrogance.  Which I spent a decade chasing, always telling myself, that it’s just a matter of time.  That never seems to come.
Therefore, I ask myself.   If I am here today and gone tomorrow, Will there be a reason for sorrow?  Have I done anything that shows I exist?  Or will I, or what have I contributed toward the future generation to be missed?  I can answer my own questions.   
All my dreams, my hopes, my fears, can now be captured as reality.  For these are my words that will become immortal, out of my dreams recorded in a little black book.
E. L. Pleasant
All Rights Reserved (c) 2011 EsDrop Publishing


New Era Flagbearer x Ghetto Film School from Creativist on Vimeo.

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of New Era Flagbearer x Ghetto Film School and their respective owners.
All Rights Reserved (c) 2011

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