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Debunk
Funk bedunk me sterile mind
A kind not built for corporate wild
Style not fitting compromise
Wrecked the dreamer full beguiled
Pickled mind no way returned
Worked away the essence burned
Told the lies to keep the path
Exposed the truth the lying math
Then you see your brother die
Still in bondage to the chase
Maxims never justify
Growing old and losing face
Fred Jagenberg – July 14, 2019
Copyright ©
Fred Jagenberg
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