fear the paper in their pockets
gold in their finger tips
static deterioration of self
not as many but one
singled out
cut from the mass
mass is the enemy
nation made of glass
stones thrown
guidance shattered
shard falls on marble
pillars rise
shiny shoes bound concrete steps
steps built on the backs of slaves
slay the dragon of freedom
place amongst the saints

do as they say
die as they do
find them on the other side
lend a hand when its through


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