Articles

Ink snakes down her arms and soaks into her skin

But she is sorry for each word that is not her own.

She looks at the lies she has written as she forges on

Calming the public with comforting untruths.

Tomorrow these will be read at breakfast

Scapegoats created and relief blooming.

Readers will smile in their fresh knowledge

Until her words line boxes and cupboards

Their words distorted and obscured.

 

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