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The End
March 20, 2015
The ground shakes, the Earth quakes, my soul breaks.
His neck snaps like the center of a pencil.
The cries, each dies due to lies.
The whispers maximize as the words truly ceist.
No one listens unless they can relate.
Winners exile, rebels are expelled, inner souls wrestle.
Listen as the peoples tears gather and comply.
Release me, set me free, I don’t want peace.
© Scott B., Chester, CT
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