Poem -

Comrade, Our Arms?

Where do we stand comrade,
where are our arms?
Does comfort kill us less than lead
silver screen dreams are all wer'e fed
Muzzled because we are defiant
against rules for which we are not compliant
Thrown into a cell to arrest our cause
which was born from oppressive laws
Comrade, who stands with us
who is left to trust
When alone in prison wer're left
while our arms turn to rust

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