Dear Leader

My young son we live in the mountains

Your wife and I are a family

She is my bride, and your mother

But together our world will prosper

Those far away have liable odds

Trends and baubles and bodies

But here we are spiders in the silk

Nothing above us but the sky as milk

These rhymes grow ever more complex

Dense and droit and clever and tense

Throughout our strain a pistol refrains

America, is our home again.

Published by cheater120

Consider me an expert in information munitions. I practice Zazen meditation, Yakuza Trappist form (a Yakuza, games cheat, and Trappist, a counter-agent), as a Bonafuda, a mercantile salesmen of information through philosophy, literature, fiction, and academics, distributed as munitions technique deployed for the purpose apparent to you, unless of course you have violated the ethics of my piece, in which case you will be trapped inside a theft of the piece and an action within the boundaries of the violation you have committed in Benedictine culture, the Jewish affiliate within Catholic culture. Buyer beware, and these poems, are free.

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