“It’s OK,”

idiotically, we say,

“I’m used to people lying.”

Each and every day.

The scumbags seem to have won.

They see us as doormats.

The costs go up.

We are screwed.

More and more.

Compressed,

pressed,

depressed.

Something’s got to give.

Rusty spring’s hurting.

Come, the breaking point!

Anger and system uncoil,

selfishness overturn.

Come, the revolution!

Oppressors,

neighbors,

speculators,

managers

flee!

Then,

perchance,

liberty can breathe.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

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