If I could pause and walk I would turn and run, This gun that some label my tongue Becomes my weapon of survival, And the contents of what I speak becomes my bible, The fable creature of instruments that writes Leaves blood in my hands And excites command in man, So I speak that I can’t defeat The devil of paper… Financial acquisitions become null and void… My heart becomes paranoid Of life, so my soul avoids the conflict And the non-sense of trying to make it When even it, doesn’t try… When enemies pose as friends when I cry, Even strive to keep the dirt in my eyes Although I am already incapable to see… I am crushed from my feet, So I find myself unable to proceed, The greed is as green as struggle, And it hurts that I have no leverage to pull in this game of war and tuggle…

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