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The left
Infatuate left will you still persistently proclaim
Your own mother land final doom, your direst foulest shame
Dis-patriate yourself in insanity so deformed and by the devil damned
Ah, when I hear your traitorous lying cunning bell
This gallant betrayal vane knell
It pains my wounded ear; the lies you tell
An ignorant and unsettled crowd of pretenders in self invalidation
Rush to culture their homeland destruction
And nourish a bantling who has already learned to lisp sedition
Copy rights 2010
All rights reserved
poem
by
Isaac Ziv
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