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Mob

Guided by emotion, We make the rush to Judgment Torches burning in a rage, We week the harshest punishment The freak, the monster - Trapped in the windmill - He's our ready target In a field of insecurity, We confine him to the margins Blinded by emotion, We preclude all sense of reason Our base natures, stirred to unrest We storm in angry legions The mob, the crowd - Our weapons drawn - Our minds made up absolutely The dissenter's opinion and heresy Hanged from the tree of scrutiny Tell me, when did we join this mob? And shouldn't we cancel our membership? Our primitive urges and intolerant thoughts Find our higher selves in their grip

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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