At twilight comes
this vulgar glow,
Its crass, reductive, for we know
Our children mean much more than this.
Displays of light are quite amiss,
Yet they reveal more than they show
We’ve sunk too deep, been brought too low,
As blood is shed its endless flow,
Is not worth more than so much piss
At twilight.
The nation’s days are numbered, so
We’re dealt each day another blow
We can’t pretend our
lives were bliss
Before we sank in the abyss
And can’t escape, nowhere to go,
At twilight.
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