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One of Many My ache like an old war injury, Splinters my ability to opposite my cheek, So very tired am I; Of defending my choice of intercourse; Maybe if the division of people Weren’t an economic manipulation For group empowerment, My disgust wouldn’t have heightened To the point of animosity towards The individuals presently enslaved To the unlearned tragedy Of simple knowledge discerned; And a society lacking improved intelligence, So imbedded still the challenge; Of positive interaction And all remain enslaved To the inherited fear of possibility; Not to be just one of, But one of many! |
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