Tuesday, October 20, 2015

196.365 - the apolitical poem

suppose, he said
I wrote a poem
and no politics crept in,
no bosses and no guards
walled off the Christmas presents
from nearly all the children;
no signs said
clean water reserved
if you have to ask for whom
then not you;
no churches
explained that life here is hell
so it will be fine hereafter.
see? he said
I know what to do,
if I could only do it

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