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Dec 2016
Put an imperfect impression on me
Kept on giving me a false reality
It was such a lonely feeling
The end of a world, came crashing down
Down, down, down, down,

Giving scars to the earth without a sound
Shaking and trembling, now I am loud
Sending prayers to the hurt
Taking shots for the crowd
The guns of Aleppo, can't be heard in U.S. towns

Copped, coined, catch-phrased and cowed.
Convinced the mass the religion is proud
It no longer safe to put your head in the sand
IED's soon to be buried, made by rebel hands,
Funded, armed and let loose by Uncle Sam.

A dollar fills a Saudi Prince pocket,
A contract to **** a million strangers
Fathers, mothers, sons and daughters
The gun barrel, the oil barrel, all for profit.
Ask yourself what can you do to stop it?
Kevin Eli
Written by
Kevin Eli  California
(California)   
467
     Bram Dela Cruz and Kevin Eli
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