Random Poem from 11/27/04
Our throats were lined with dust,
Our breath made not a sound,
So lifeless were our bodies
As we lay upon the ground.
We made no smell or move
And were ignored and leaped
By the wild wolf hounds
Running to the town.
Rouze up! Set your foreheads against the ignorant Hirelings! — Wm. Blake
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