It pays I would say to have one of their own always right there at the end of the phone
Tag: Poem
I’m old
The patterns were nice, that the ice drew inside the windowpanes
The arc of the moral universe
Don’t listen to their whispers, that tempt you to stop trying. If we don’t fight for justice, our kids will do the dying.
A statement from Rishi the Rich
I just can’t help everyone, as I once said. So I’m helping the rich, just like me. While I get much richer, and eat seeded bread, You’ll shiver, with nothing for tea.
New Clothes (again)
The jesters and trumpeters ride on his train there's money for them in the lies they maintain
Ali 