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May 2015
You find yourself in Pittsburgh
In the shackles of Sinead,
You hear your name in circles,
and you play it on repeat,
When all the drums start playing,
The marching carries you out,
You can’t hear what their saying,
The music’s just too loud,

I’ll carry on the night,
Brown stars and the moon fight,
Run around my kids,
And watch all the pigs,
Wearing suits and ties,
Lash out at all the agitators,
Procreators, Legislative, creatures of the night. Debators, and anti-human manipulators

Let them guess all your secrets,
Let them hear your soothing voice,
no matter who the leader,
their job is to devoice,
and once let your mind float away,
into the plastic techno joy,
it may only be an illusion,
but to be illuded is your choice

And everything they’re saying,
about all our future plans,
oh how I wish they’d realize,
the future is in our hands,
and this division in the world,
leaves and endless race,
where we separate our families,
based off race, or place, or gays.

For one second not to notice,
For one moment not to care,
and everyday we want to give up,
or wallow in despair,
youth only driven by parent goals,
Money leave the dreamers trapped in a hole,
And at some point we all must choice to lose or let go.
Briefly written but always thought about...
Jean Sullivan
Written by
Jean Sullivan  21/F/Traverse City
(21/F/Traverse City)   
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