A Missing Deluge - 2011/07/28

It was this pitiful drop we forgot
That birthed the magnificent flood
The rights we now take for granted
Are writ in a very bold ones blood
Their names relegated to the books
Which not a soul cares to research
As history without the pink lenses
Knocks lesser men off of the perch

These battles we have so forgotten
Will soon be fought all over again
For we with a short attention span
Replay aging mistakes now and then
Every iteration of our corrections
Requires a spark to produce flames
Otherwise the stressful commotions
Can produce little more than games

Which shall it be this time around
Are there any brave men so willing
To take a hated unpopular position
Simply to keep blood from spilling
Or instead will we cower like rats
Awaiting death by a great predator
Spreading our legs in nasty excess
Our last days like that of a whore

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