They were of the wind,
Those changelings
You wouldn’t know
Till the time to die was upon
You which was which
We are dying as a species
One by one we are dying
And changing
The spark is dying in our eyes
The stockpile is absolute
What good does having
More than one gun at any time
When you are fighting
One on one hand to the wind
Gun in the air waving
Lead brings weight to the wind
Dragging it down to earth
Where the true battle can begin
Humanity will prevail
but how human will we be
Chris McQueeney 10/12/14 11:05 A.M.
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