Years end on new/ as the holiday descends into an assault on the many/ and a prophecy for the smiling claims that lace the airwaves the hardened criminal becomes your friend and/ I once saw a reflection of light/ leading into a millennium promised anew a fresh-take for the starved fragile— already broken to fend off the inevitable descent into hell/ we strove for change as it was past due a pay-up to exchange the forced poverty and blood-sucking rich on poor/ on not poor/ but now poor— it never ends.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh

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