PROTEST
(locked horns)
I cannot shelve the frozen pipe, the arms of a
I cannot shelve the frozen pipe, the arms of a
hundred revolutions - guns and ammunition,
screaming of injustice's hordes. Those tanks, now
lining this sad perimeter, they act as if they had
somehow arrived to see a picture show - children,
lined up, to watch the big screen before them. Popcorn
and jujubes, fun and revelry, while before them,
on the field arrayed, people fall and die.
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