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politics

Economicly in debt,

Still no sign of fret,

Spining in to a wirlwind,

That we never saw begin.



People dieing each day,

From huge numbers in Iraq's fray,

Strictly under a political hold,

They convince us its something bold.



Things today simply unfold,

money can make anything sold,

Trying to keep it up and last through,

but the only ones that try, equal a few.



As we continue to decrease fast,

its a sign of just a harder crash,

The hole in which we were dug into,

Will never refill only, continue.



Politics





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