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We struck fear into those bearing swastikas,
Or those wearing red with a sickle and hammer.
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Your face, your body
Round and cheery like a badass beachball,
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Dust me with your char and ashes
But the spray of the ocean will wash ‘em away.
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Bible thumpers came to my door
they shoved their morals down my throat
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You destroyed my inks so my voice would wither away
You stomped out my honor and hope fell into decay
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Perhaps it will lead to what you warn
But for now I'm merely enjoying the rebellion
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Chattel to the noose
Dead and without hope
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“This is your problem:…”
Just one this time?
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Another day of living, living for a wage
What are you going to pay, to keep me from rage?
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We are the new generation
The ones you cannot break.
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They drowned you in their rivers
They forced you to convert
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What is this god, under whom none is free-
Is it he who crafted heaven for the good?
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Noble hero
Laughing, living, longing
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If I must die, let it be with the fight
And not relaxed while others die in bed
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A blank page can intimidate or open opportunities to obliterate our failing fate. / Current events cause a wrath and rage that seemingly engulfs this day and age. The time has come again for change. Our progress misguided a
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Plodding through the muck / I start to feel the dread, / I think I'm out of luck. / My heart is like a block of lead / Hanging in this box
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We think we're so good / that we observe ours on a different day / that somehow our workers work that much harder / or are that much cleaner / that they get to have their holiday different from everyone else / Other
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Rules are meant to be broken / or in this case ignored, because to live life without reason / I get so easily bored. / I’m sick of the crap
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In dirt, disease and all things mephitic / It lives by lies, good weakness, living death / And curses every mind’s good state of wonder / In this sleeping world, its leaders, incubi / They rape all knowledge, take awa
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In this lunatic asylum / I want to scream my sanity / I wonder what the insane would do, / And their doctors / Looking over their glasses /
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every moment means a conflict, because you desire power over me,
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They grab a torch and wave it in our face As if that's enough to make us leave this place We'll give them money if they leave their disgr
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Another flame is pouring over, What have we done, I thought we were the mourners But ashes float away like level-headed thoughts
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Ink spilling upon paper, giving a message to strike them down Also a song written by me, but I decided to make it a poem.
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Been there before I got out of it
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