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Post by Tate Icasa on Feb 8, 2008 23:39:28 GMT -5
Human Condition Mankind stumbles, blindly falls Bangs his head on crumbling walls Can't see the forest for the trees Or feel the wind for a gentle breeze He'll cut his nose to spite his face Clothe this bleeding wound in lace Reach toward the stars with twisted hands And play a game with earthly lands He tries to reason with the law And justify the wrongs he saw Falls and then again gets up Pours enemies blood in a cup Cries for only simple things And flies again, on broken wings His building blemish lands once pure Release diseases none can cure With hands as tainted as they've been He can't tell who or what or when Yet fate, her lesson to condone Let's "tried" be written here in stone
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