i’m a rotting flower
cracking the pot
in which i shed my petals
blood pouring out
and dripping from my thorns
pricking you every time
guess i’ll be back
next year
burn me
or let me grow
cut me open
take a look
i will be back
i will see to it
that you falter
reveal yourself
behind prison bars
or electric chair
how useful is your craft now
your technology?
when you became traitors to your country
inhibiting victory
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