poetry
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They were somebody’s baby Brother/sister a mum or dad, Stood up for their rights Aired their voices clear But then they paid the price Through acts of violence, Perpetrated through fear And now they’re dead. They were somebody’s baby Who had the right to live, They were somebody’s baby But they’ve now been put to…
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Truth is, I don’t need this, Negativity on my TV, It’s not my reality, No its not my thing, All this war and violence Bloodshed and dead bodies Across my plasma screen. Truth is, I don’t need this, Negativity on my TV, It’s not my reality, No its not my thing, I don’t want to…
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‘By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes’. Oops sorry it’s just Trump and his white supremacist fascist clan. My bad.