'Mongst the self-absorption,
Flinging shit with the hope that it will stick,
Chip another portion,
Of the armor around Custer's last stand,
Bent to fare the same fate,
If the abuse has anything to say.
Its goal is to turn all hope into hate,
But its intentions are ill-directed,
There's no victory there,
It may succeed in wreaking its revenge,
But will leave itself bare,
Naked and chill,
Alone and left to rot,
My god the power of a once scarred heart,
Blind to the damage it also has fraught
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