Poem: The Little Boy That Got Washed


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You are eating, but the little boy got washed
You are smiling, but the little boy got washed
You are free, but the little boy got washed
He got washed and he is your wake up call
He got washed and he is your angel
You are making decisions,
Having conferences
Signing treaties,
But the little boy is washed
You bloody city, filled with lies and robbery
Hearts as hard as stones
Smiles as fake as greasepaint
Humans as mild as rock
Praising stupidity with immoral intentions
You’ve left your neighbor’ house on fire
And now your house is too
Accepting any and everything with the vice of change
Wickedness does come to an end and it is not just in death
As even in living, one begins to die.

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