We are even branches of the same tree,
with leaves that spring forth below the navel.
Different seeds by one farm, by one decree.
No matter what wood may have killed Abel.
Earth completes the piece to this Ruby cubes,
just live like the tree, Orange or Apple.
When giving tools, God gave the woman boobs,
and some have used theirs to feed their demons
Claiming they’re men – no fallopian tubes.
Some have chosen sides, sizes of cushions,
when the same wood which made it, made the Ark.
You still know that in your fake delusions.
We are the same piece that ignite the spark,
the same puzzle pieces, Look for the mark.