only those paved with blood, sand and oil...
i climb the stairs made of broken backs
to look through the bullethole viewfinder
in the door made of patriotic striped suffocating cloth..
it reveals only yellow toothed grins
birthed in this secret darkened room.
i fear for my life,
i am american.
we eat complacency because the fruits of action and freedom are hard to pick...
NB @ 8:56 AM
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