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Dancing in a Burning Room
by Gregory Wilde  /  poetry  /  12 Oct 2007

I spit on your forehead,
Your close your eyes,
The gun was loaded,
Two more college students,
Two more trains blurred b/t the lines,

You run the open road,
The Euro is climbing,
Pound shooting,
Canadian dollar soaring.
America, what happened?

I see the girls playing,
Children ready to be delivered,
But college students dying...
What kind of country are we living in?
We're dancing in a burning room.

You're not right, pa,
It's okay to leave this way.
When we talked years ago
About America falling on dry land.
Who would have known
A few more years and we're dodging rebels.

I spit on your forehead.
The country kills the intellectuals,
Lawyers and politicians,
Taking power from under.
What happened to social order?
Does anyone care anymore?

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