Faults draw their battle lines,
fingers point to all and nowhere,
the powerful seize their dishonest moments.
America still has its lights on
but those lights are dead-eyed,
they stare like the painted orbs
of broken dolls.
I cannot write about this sickly ‘shinning,’
it both glares and shades my mind.
The new 'normal' is old,
both angels and devils, the meek and the bold
run...
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