Poetry Blogs (2016, history)

Come the revolution

there’ll be bullet holes in the wall

and stains of brains that mattered

but didn't matter to us all

We’ll fly our flags

and burn the rich

and sing our songs

and burn the rich

and right their wrongs

and burn the rich

and take their wealth

and launder it

and to the poor 

might give a bit

but they wont know 

how much of it

we’ll...

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