Day 2287, resentment.

Day's pictures, Poetry

My façade might look dirty to you

my thoughts inside to dark


but you holy man

with your mowed lawns and trimmed thoughts

a fifth column of tyrants disguised  


you might find the likes of mine

everywhere and detest

pouring your world of petty resentment

into our rejection


you might seem to win

for now

and await the return of the heimat

and 1933

but the young of mind will more than ever

forget your past


and deny all of us your hateful gods


progress is not just a word

an act

or a wish

it’s something that happens

rolling downhill to a better place

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