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Stop The Press
Hold on a second. Gimme a moment
to process the “progress” of development.
How long will we prolong in the face of
mutual assured destruction- us against her?
Hey, ma, I’m sorry we’re burning your heart.
I’m sorry we’re pushing you past your breaking point
in order to dig for treasures that don’t last
longer than what it’ll take to trace scars on your face.
What do you mean, we’re gonna kill our world?
If I turn my head, blind my industrial eyes,
I can be like the rest of the world, careless,
Stuck in the tunnel vision cage of the static world.
Wait. You’re telling me that we’re different from them?
His dark skin makes him inhuman, mean, amoral,
while my white skin makes me a kindly saint?
What astronomical science makes black lives not matter?
Neighbors used to open doors, not build walls.
We used to send baskets, not drone strikes and caskets.
But freedom doesn’t come free. It needs sacrifice.
Will foreign children appease our blood thirst?
So, dear Mr. Progress and Industry,
are you willing to face your chains, weights, blazing pains?
Like Sherman’s March, you’ve declared a total warfare,
but the aftermath isn’t smoke and ash.
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