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Moscow Protests by Leo Krylov from Vantage
They look at you with big eyes
Crocodile tears and painted halos,
Fake medals, fools gold.
They cower behind walls of fragile stone
They float so they don’t have to imagine
Walking on thorns
Bearing the weight of your heavy heart
Do you think they’re blind?
Do you think they’re born
With a spot in their vision to block out
The ugly truth,
The tears?
Plug your ears, boys,
Don’t listen
To the screams
Come here, boys,
Wash your hands in the stream
Come out fresh and young and sparkling clean
Turn away, and it carries away your sins
Don’t look to see us there,
Standing in the blood-red current
Just the dregs of our dreams.
Do You Think They Understand?
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