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Glazed in comfort
Sanctimonious words
Which fill the vacuous caverns
That spread from ear to ear
Worthless rhetoric
From those designed
Not to hear or cast a care
To those who live in hope
In towers always looking down
Decisions thrown to suit themselves
With nods and winks and smiles
Self satisfying gestures to the end
Turning cards and tossing dice
To win the endless game
Of calculated moves
And sacrificial pawns
Wrapped up in names and promises
They swim to catch the Sun
But never leave their tribe
And still the children die.

This is a response to a prompt by Vic Linde – check out her site!

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