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Remember, remember the seventeenth of September
The “Day of Rage” and “Occupy Together”,
I see no reason why the Day of Rage
Should ever be forgot.

Adbusters, it was their intent
To bring down Wall Street and their putrescence.
Thousands gathered below
To prove Wall Street’s overthrow.

By the city’s malice they were ravished
Beat, pepper-sprayed and left to anguish.
Shame, Shame, the people rang,
Shame, Shame, the people will not be tame.

A $600,000 salary to feed the CEO of Sachs
A $12.6 Million bonus to choke him.
A bailout to rinse it down.
A movement of democracy to burn him.
Protest with heart.
Protest with hope.
Protest with humanity.
Then we’ll end the era of Matchstick Men.
Hip hip horrah!
Hip hip horrah!

livingbyday (Written Friday, September 30, 2011 in response to #OccupyWallStreet)

Remember, remember the seventeenth of September
The “Day of Rage” and “Occupy Together”,
I see no reason why the Day of Rage
Should ever be forgot.

Adbusters, it was their intent
To bring down Wall Street and their putrescence.
Thousands gathered below
To prove Wall Street’s overthrow.

By the city’s malice they were ravished
Beat, pepper-sprayed and left to anguish.
Shame, Shame, the people rang,
Shame, Shame, the people will not be tame.

A $600,000 salary to feed the CEO of Sachs
A $12.6 Million bonus to choke him.
A bailout to rinse it down.
A movement of democracy to burn him.
Protest with heart.
Protest with hope.
Protest with humanity.
Then we’ll end the era of Matchstick Men.
Hip hip horrah!
Hip hip horrah!

livingbyday (Written Friday, September 30, 2011 in response to #OccupyWallStreet)

Poem :: I’m back again

Turning fear to anger 
My nerves are better
Not sure if it’ll last
Cynicism on blast

The anxiety to be beat
Runs naked in the street
Knocking on doors
waking people in their sleep

The rage in my veins
keeps me going at a creep
Hopes become bleak 
But my dreams come alive when asleep

Not sure if it’ll last
I’m alive at best
My vision’s in and out
Gotta quit with this doubt 

Crossroads

Timid, questioning, elated, hoping;

Thoughts dance of new memories being made of me and you.

I smile over at you and you smile back.

Our lips collide with the memory of passion.

This story continues and it holds with it, a turning of minds.

For you see, the next sentence starts with a word that only means one thing; no longer.

But words crumble and the hours grow longer between each tryst.

I no longer see us on the horizon.

Disappointment snickers at me.

Thoughts mold into past memories and hopes of the future.

Timid, questioning, dismay, unsettled.

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