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Aug 2012
Puffed up feathers,
Touring the planet like a Satanic God,
A peacock with an entourage,
Spitting, spouting, spreading your words,
Your verbal diseases,
β€œBurn them; Blame them, Better than them”.

Such ignorance,
Such hate,
And yet you call yourselves supreme.
written in 2011
Simon Clark
Written by
Simon Clark
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