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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Opinion · #954896
Once upon a time, there was a shape shifting tragedy.
Numb I walk 'mongst many a moron,
Often struggling with dissonance; my mind cries to let go.

Many days have passed since the original mayhem.
"Only a thousand days. Where did they go?"
Remembering the chaos and the crassness, I reach that mental scar,
Eternally hidden from the government, tormenting me.

Perhaps I'm misguided in patriotism; I've fallen into a trap,
And I'm not sure if I can be saved from this fatal sea.
Treachery by the government,
Riddling my life-it's never far
In spite of my efforts to leave this land of brutal ennui.
Oh, I long! Why won't they let me go?
Take my passport!
It's no way to live, devoid of quality stimuli.
Something must give in America's systems.
Maybe it should be blind patriotism.
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