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A Poem
A Poem
What must it be like
sitting on your throne
looking down at the rest of us
casting judgement, declaring faults
the book in one hand
a sword in the other
this one is good
that one is evil
declaring yourself the authority
to cast the first stone
but their is one higher
who weeps at your works
who whispers, that one IS good
if only you could see what I see
posted on Mar 6, 2008 7:07 AM ()
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