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A Matter of Time

The bombs already drop

in rhythmic succession,

brewing but little

condemnation -

Millions bleed the colour of soil,

impoverished by

rich mans toil.

But no tear,

nor a note is shed - unless,

they bleed the colour of

the dollar bill.

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Written by

beau-phoenix-rose

Australian

Published: Apr 17, 2013
LinesWords: 1141

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