March 28, 2009
Robotic in motion
The martyr posses
A custom devotion
To things yet unseen.

He looks through the glass
And sees his own past
A ruination of sorts
That causes unrest.

The people stand up
Their surroundings collapse
Where do they stand
But on a dot on a map?

The martyr sees red
The riot cop sees blue
The patriot sees both
But he sees white too.

The stars shine so bright
But no one will know
Because the martyr doesn't see
The red dot on his chest.

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