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 Aug 2018 Emma Sims
Julian Delia
The sound of silence.
Peace after violence.

A mother’s browbeaten servitude.
A child’s coerced gratitude.

The world’s most prosperous nations.
Architects of the most dangerous machinations.

Economies like never before;
A life that still leaves you wanting more.

The embezzlement of public finances.
The settlement of a case’s nuances.

Two colluding entities declaring each other free of ******;
With ease, starving YOUR wallet until YOU are down on your knees.

The oath: ‘to protect and serve.’
The reality? ‘To suspect and unnerve.’

A cartel that’s in charge of the guns;
Like leaving a brothel in the hands of Huns.

The lie of representation in government.
The election, expectation of endowment.

Spending your life washing your master’s feet,
Then somehow being surprised by their trickery and deceit.

The mistake of prioritising convenience.
The finalising of our own, eventual obsolescence.

We are a species that will die
Clueless of our role in it, desperately asking ‘why?’
When it’s way too late.
Trying on a new style in terms of venting vexation.
I am not the name upon the building
There is no shingle hung for me
But, if we walk into the forest
You'll see where it's carved upon a tree

I move in diferent circles
though I like who I've become
While my friends were busy studying
I was absorbing, having fun

I'm wrapped up in a blanket of academic non achieving
Too much time has passed me by to sit here now and grieving
I wear a cloak of non success that is a little worn
And just like me, it's tattered some and in places slightly torn
It doesn't matter one **** bit, I'm where I want to be
Making ripples in the water, that make their way out to the sea

I life life at a different speed
and Time it is my friend
Because just like those who studied hard
We're all dieing in the end

They won't outlive their building
Their name not there to see
But, deep down in the forest
My name's still on that tree

I'm wrapped up in a blanket of academic non achieving
Too much time has passed me by to sit here now and grieving
I wear a cloak of non success that is a little worn
And just like me, it's tattered some and in places slightly torn

They won't outlive their building
Their name not there to see
But, deep down in the forest
My name's still on that tree
Dear Dad
I know you have physical disabilities,
but you are the centre of my heart,
the love of my life,
so thankful to be your son.

I  am never ashamed of you,
because you are my perfect dad;
your heart is never disabled,
your love has had no divisions,
your mind is pure,
your words calm a raging foe,
and your smiles are infectious,

I will always be your son,
I love you Dad.
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