“Nobody should pin their hopes on a miracle.”
This world, I think it strange.
not whimsical but absurd, not quirky but bizarre
not eccentric but deranged.
I think it strange.
Flowers tied to a lamppost where she begged for her life;
the last place her soul would wish to remain.
Thanking god for his creations, through seeing what we can create with them;
meats, skyscrapers, fire, landfills and bullets and chains.
Killing to prevent killing, and killing, and killing.
Heads full of air, and fields full of brains.
I think it strange.


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