Printed anywhere,
And it is never seen in someone's hand,
But only travels through the air,
From the proof of our identity,
Embedded in our very skin,
As much a part of us as our sense of humor,
Or our manic compulsion,
To have what we want, easily,
Just pick it up and walk away.
Isn't that the freedom we talk about,
When we camp out for days and days?
And it's alright,
We just have to make money part of us,
And it needs to be distributed evenly,
By the new government, socialist.
2 comments:
If you be
like me
an underdogmatist ---
you'll agree
all the isms
are not prisms
but prisons
and life really isn't all that
complicated
love one another
father mother sister brother
share be fair
what's need what's greed
what's your "human" creed?
start there
remember:
simple's never easy
I heard you on Spark and was inspired to be your 31st comment. Congratulations, both on your anonymity and your volume of achievement! - Best Wishes
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