Third World
The rest of us
caught here
in the web
of a foreign arachnid
We prop up
his appendages
and force feed
his proboscis
Those of us
blinded here
by his pure
dark whiteness
Grope and slash
in the excrement
of his dying
putrefaction
In a world
good for others
they concentrate
us in harm
And our children
play in the backyard
of beyond
forever like
the rest of us
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