The Peasants Pave Genocide

So silly it seems

To wear your different hats

To bay in different accents

To feel the same feelings

So similar it seems

To scream in empty rooms

To cry for half of justice

To sharpen the knives of contempt

So sad it seems

To rally under false flags

To hate without reason

To ready the trains on either side

So special it seems

To be in this moment of serendipity

To see through both what neither can see

To find the tribe sharpening sticks

So much more to see

The splendid future so grand

Our children hand in hand

The corpses filling the land

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