I can no longer bless the parade
you dance in costume and expect everyone to bow
dozens of you demanding attention
and dozens of you common as dust
it is not mine to see you when the dance is done
and your own children will spit on you
who tired so hard to be their 'friend'
let God bless the fool's parade...I'm busy reclusing....
Content (c) 2008-2013 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.
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