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Mitchell Nov 2011
The censors are in
And the mad houses
Have been unlocked
For the carnival

Friends and former
Lovers embrace your
Bodies and watch the
Clouds billow in the distance

For the background is
Always more beautiful
Then the horrid
Foreground

Not in this hour
But the next there
Will be social
Justice!

There will be a fire
To be put out that
All the masses of the
World can see and
Truly understand and
Articulate!

As of right now,
SGT. BECHER is
Blasting his horn in my
Right ear, causing
Blood hemorages of
Every type and sort

But what of love!

What of pure hate!

What of a human race
Born into INHUMANITY

Legions of snarling dogs
Licking their chops for
The next fix that will COME
But not
SUFFICE

Consumption is a word
No one
Will's to understand

Small has always
Equaled weak

And the born strong
Will never back peddle

In evolution

It just

Isn't

Done

So to abide the wealthy
Warmongers piling
Ammunition on top of
And inside their
Grandmother's brazers!

Is to let them win a
Game they were meant to
Win ANYWAY

Roads were meant to be walked on
Mountains meant to be conquered
But people,
What were we
Meant to do
With

Ourselves?
The People, my people,
loss so great
savors havoc,
hemorages my skin.

Grabbed my sister,
grabbed my nephew,
harries my children...

Howl wide-mouthed
broken toothed,
water-eyed,
feral in my den.

Creator dances,
dances, dances,
dies yet does not die,
shattering these sins,
whirls and steps in battle,
catches my heart’s groan,
knits bone with song,
joys soul in soul,
for life wars:
wins.

— The End —