Thirteen

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"Thirteen Christmas with thorns, of wire and the coagulated blood of the Islan between barbarism, thirteen Christmas obscene full of falsehood, of crime and of insularity for those millions of people that try to escape from that horror that thirteen years is installed in the East"
Thirteen.
Always have been Christmas black, green, blue and Christmas white, but from that bad day that with lies and looting is Egged the hornet's nest of Iraq, since that time that were torn down all the symbols of Saddam and that the soldiers of the Coalition played to the soccer with balls made with them tickets of the main Bank of Baghdad the Christmas are red for hate, of crime and of the blood of the victims.
In the country of Aladdin before the invasion, apart from the faucet of gold in all the palaces of the dictator, counted also with the per capita income, more high of East, with a system health comparable to the of Europe and with a system of Government prepared to avoid the proliferation of those crazed fans that as a cancer will have expanded not only by Iraq, also by all the Nations of the area.
Can say today without fear that the medicine used by George W. Bush and his accomplices to combat terrorists has been an expenditure and a wasted effort, compounding the box, because materialized based on tricks, traps and lies, by a hidden plan to since I began It has continued to emanate death, madness and the exodus of people towards any destinación, as a goods defective and with the brand of the vanquished held in a field of concentration.
Another Christmas feeling solidarity with those suffering from the miseries of war, and with all those people that flee from the cities in destruction, Wire and Barbed, Black Christmas, Christmas cold to the Bertolt Brecht, sad Christmas dedicated to the consumption, a time of pretences, of projects, and promises of love. Today more than ever the Christmas must be a vindictive time of all rights inherent to the human being, the false Christmas of 2016, apart from all that is a time to cross your fingers and to claim the fate so the fucking Law of Murphy, albeit only once... is not met.
Christmas of Red,
Filled with Doom,
Christmas False,
Curds of Solitude.
Christmas Dark,
Painted of Iniquity,
Obscene Christmas,
Lack of Charity.
Christmas black,
Absent of Humanity,
Lame Christmas,
No trace of Solidarity.
Christmas of Bed,
Filled with Moon,
Christmas Obscene,
Of Charity no Trace .
Lucas Lazar. Telling Christmas Stories.
Another Christmas disguise of opulence, luxury and appearance, another Christmas full of good intentions, of promises and of false hopes, another Christmas surrounded of monsters that when not celebrate the death of a fighter, extol to an abomination like Donald Trump.
Before such a view and a future so confused, really hard to celebrate and send congratulations, After this tragic November I wish you the best of December for all those hearts noble who travel the Web.
At the turn of the corner 2017 it is coming, the signals painted red and the green in amber not stop from flashing.
"There are Dark Christmas is trying to forget, there is Nailed with Pins in the Eeart, Cruel Christmas, there are Christmas Obtuse curdled of Misfortune, Devoid of Hopes and Failures of Love, there are Christmas Dark, Selfish and Absent of Faith"
Thirteen.
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