class warfare
in dog-eat-dog America
there's winners and losers
and the beautiful ones
are the losers
the sweetest of all
are the insane
the poets
the ones who talk to sparrows
and the ghosts in their heads
who give a dollar
to every homeless beggar
they see
who open their windows at night
to howl at the moon
and the money
of the smirking winners
can't buy any of that
ever.
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