Lynch Mob

Feed your righteous ignorance,

Because you'd rather move in a thoughtless mass,

A mess of mindless thoughts to pass,

Like a hurricane void of common sense.


Than kiss the faces, those before you,

Those you ought at least acknowledge,

Those you'd rather suffacate; you remain on edge,

In the face of those less fortunate than you.

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world


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