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The Big City


I stood on the bridge
And beheld the great city
The weather so cold like in a fridge
Everyman on his duty
Some houses in a ridge
I sighed and said what a pity!


The land of slavery
Held men hostage for years
Story was told of his bravery
He stood and everything he dares
But he was caught up in great injury
 By those who burden he bares

The great city of vain
Where all at last becomes vanity
Where men for joy get pain
Hands washed in blood in sanity
All they seek is their gain
To acquire riches and vitality

Yet our sight is blinded
Our strength weakened
In wisdom we are fooled
In our kingdom we are doomed
We still perceive all is well
Until we receive our wage and fell


By J_amaze

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Within the last of the tomb

Within the last of the tomb Are fresh and quick sand The hairs rough and needed comb Whom the owners sought for a land When bitterness taste like it is from honeycomb Men stood and roll their last band Not of victory but cry of a lost womb Of a child who was at hand Those left behind blasted by a bomb Their remains soon would turn manure sold for few rand Within the last of the tomb Are bodies which testify failure of a magic wand. By J_amaze.