Screaming child, clad in dust,
Expenditure on our makeup.
Shockwaves are bigger in person.
Evangelise, in God we trust.
Tough Mondays, are a conjecture,
Convention chic is a fallacy,
While new sneakers squeak,
To notes of fractious conduct.
Billions spent in bloodshed,
The 5th floor for the adults,
Partitioned for your safety,
Plights are triaged for design.
Humanity’s paradoxical helplessness,
Forged in the fire of suffering,
Reminds Death he’s employed.
Hell is another’s misery.
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