Sunday, September 8, 2002


Can you read my palm? Yes. You work in an office, with computers.

But did you know of the time I worked in trenches? You are paid a large salery.

But do you know of the sadness that asails me? You come from a city with many freinds.

But what of the blood I have spilt? What of the emptiness? You are worried. Worn with cares.

Yet I have saved no one. You live a rich life.

For what purpose? To what end? I see prospertiy in your future.

I see destruction. I see tears.

- Mike Wood

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