Mr. War
Roars from the rooms of power
Rags, rattles and cowers
Rakes, rattles and bemires
Runs with the sound of thunder
Wards from above on under
Waits for ther truth to come
Wants you to have no doubt
Waves you to make it better
But do we need a protector
Wandering through shades and lines
Who even not knows the difference?
No do we say in reaction
Needing as only guides
Streets and boulevards of conscience.
poem by Ipazia
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