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Aug 2013
desperate young guns and wannabe nuns
clever, cunning, running for their very lives
ever wracked with doubt, there’s no way out
no one wins and in the end no one survives

little lambs lost, prophets sleep with profiteers
to our unknown unseen gods we blindly pray
it’s time to choose, when you snooze you lose
can we not find a more sublime game to play

society’s tools, writing rules followed by fools
criticize and cry, our sighs but a silent scream
beneath empty skies, all fall down for little lies  
please play if you must, but i choose to dream
wounded
Written by
wounded
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