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Paul Sands Apr 2015
what the hyena cannot ****

it will steal

tallied on the gritted walls of our toil

their bounty cultivated from the nothing we now possess

and the bodies which must fall once their winter bites

no time left to wail and gnash

we must become as lions that rise

and grip the throat of this thieving class
you know who I'm talking about

— The End —