it hides in the corners calling names
as it rides on the high wire of fame
looking for vagabonds who are strained
and waiting for that moment, the same
nowhere in our day does joy occur
the defiant heathen whose sight is blurred
never, never will it be retained
and nicknames only serve to resist her
commonplace exchanges are not devoid
of thought and feeling, yet are annoyed
yet truth is only caught and defamed
and this is why we are chosen in a ploy
confusion rests within when matters most
not to help or wonder, never to boast
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