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Polishing the Turned Tables
Walking through an upscale neighborhood
With a recently acquired friend,
I pointed upward to certain well-lit penthouse apartments, and said,
These are the residences of scoundrel thieves
For whom I once paid miniscule amounts
To render an eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth
To traitors and unconscionable informants
And now they live like feasting rats
As I make my way to a woman of means
To grovel like an unloved child or a starving dog.
poem
by
Uriah Hamilton
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