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the lines of normal
etched in the sand
obscure the detail
of the truth at hand

the painted finger
now deep in dust
reveals the depth
of superficial lust

judgement comes
and judgement leaves
the jury sits
like a band of thieves

the floor is cleared
and silence falls
sneering chants
in empty halls

the facts aren’t clear
but minds are set
the truth’s obscure
it’s anyone’s bet

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