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Friday, February 16, 2007

bleed, my poor poor heart

Bleed, my bleeding heart,
Bleed for the money, the workers, the poor.
Speak for the voiceless masses of men,
Sing a song of freedom from suppression.

Claim a simple plan, oh heart,
Fear not what may follow:
The only thing we have to lose is chains themselves!
The poor, hungry, downtrodden will have their say.

Oh, my sad sad soul!
Why have you not objected
To the lies you are fed like Pepsi Free?
How long before you go on a rampage?

Oh my poor children, my little beacons of hope,
Will you grow up to be like your parents,
Delusional, opportunistic, and easily spooked,
Alone with your grief even among your own kind?

Oh, the disparity!
The gruesome injustice and cynicism!
So easily divided and kept ignorant,
We are, like, deaf and dumb.

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