Hung with Ink

The tainted wings of the new minds are dyed in socially correct sheets and political papers. Red tape nooses hang from the governments wire. As the new people stand up to be slaughtered, we feed them seeds in a ruby encrusted cage. And maybe, just maybe they will get a chance to glance and see the light at the end of the tunnel. But we request an answer to be written on their hearts, and the the margins left empty for others to make corrections…

Where is your pen.


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