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The Mockingbird calls the shots

While politicking puerile plots

The blood it coagulates and clots

And History memory forgot.

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Tears pour down Sorrow’s cheek

Hope cries out bruised and bleak

A universal losing streak

Would you want this Earth if you were meek?

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The sense of loss from Zeitgeist’s grief

Innocents incur broke belief

Future frowns at Tomorrow’s thief

While pulling teeth for pure relief.

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