When we beat our drums
With the loudest, most vile displeasure,
We are likely cognizant of the most dismal
And disconcerting acts
Of our cohorts and compatriots -
What these unwise and heartless fools
Deem certain and proper
Can simply rob us of our just peace and sanity
And bring our sacrilegious blood to a boil,
Rankling our indiscriminate souls
For all eternity.
Though we likely know these frequent and repeated mishaps
Are not any of our own fault or misdoings,
We are rancorously shackled
And must endure further, appalling treachery;
And we learn that these malignant sisters and brothers
Bear an unabashed and tragic guilt
Which no one can, or ever will, disguise,
Despite their plaintive pleas to the contrary...
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