Cover Pot From the Bad Clay
They bought the rain for take-out
sun is bought too
human destitution is televised
to point good as rarity
so that request from one wretch can wipe dry request from another
and cosmic balance
could exhale
everybody is dealing with another's business,
no one stays long enough to help those broken pieces come together
but world wasn't built from obedient soldiers,
and stories they preach on us, speak more about them
still
worn out faces are waiting for reconstruction
- to all streets
apply mirrors
it is needed
so people can actually see themselves
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