November 4, 2007
In this dingy land of dreams
we are a nation without hope,
a people dying from this toxic waste
that infects our insides.
Boys and girls dance on rooftops
to the beat of their amphetamines.
Colors sing in their ears,
drowning out the sounds of their pain
wearing their designer jeans.
They know it’s the end of the world.
What else is there to do
but dance in the acid rain?

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