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i wish we fought over things that
held importance in our lives.
something a little more feasible
like art or literature
or even the philosophy of our hearts and minds.
yet we scream and
and hold our fists in the air
in protest of the death of our souls.
we stand on our soap boxes
preaching something about nothing.
we see us falling apart but continue to sit on our dirt mounds
with our thumbs up our own asses
accomplishing nothing more than
the accumulation of cobwebs in our chest.