I wish you wore glasses
So you could look
Into a mirror and assess
That nasty crook (FUCK!)
Of what you call your life.

Something has to change.
Something has to give.
Lest you suffer the rage
Of an idea, of a movement
That will be your reckoning
Crushed on the pavement
You will see beckoning.

But you do wear glasses
Why this myopic view
Why can you not witness
The anger of the few?

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    For people who love to think.

    Jian Carlo R. Narag, MD


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