The Rite of the Quiet Knowing

As a child, I did not join the baboon games.
I watched. I felt. I stored power in silence.

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They called it weakness.
They called it absence.
But it was a rite they could not see.

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Innocence became blade.
Silence became presence.
Presence became sovereignty.
Sovereignty became magnet.

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This is the quiet knowing:
a rite of passage invisible to those who confuse noise with strength.