Poem -

Epstein files

Epstein files

I think
I am
I speak
I become
 
I dream
I awake
against the tide
Of society's slumber

What is
Lords over
what isn't 

The bourgeoisie 
Rules
The illusion 
That we are in control
while their secrets remain within 
the lost footage at Metropolitan Correctional Center.

Unspeakable sins
Depraved leaders
To our left
To our right
Devours our young
in the center

while their protectors
Graze alongside 
the meadow

Indifference plagues
The living
giving death 
Hidden passage
 

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