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The Cries of My People
I see it in your eyes.
The weariness of you citizens of patched lands
Receding fast like suppressed cries;
Cold phobia, slave bands
In your heart;
Your tears jugging without caution
Chanting songs of war forever,
Cursing the day of birth of the immunity
of the canker worm corruption
which sewed your land together
In pseudo unity;
Pathetic tears, drops of blood,
of the sacrificial ofering
of widows, orphans; suckling
on your stately altar.
of mixed multitude flood
of caged doves. And halters;
Outlarge roaring lions
In guise of builders of zion;
Bloody tears provoked on your face
Elates my past depressed soul,
Outpoured the worries and wearisome goals
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