Warning signs reveal,
the contemplated thoughts,
of our past mistakes,
The bump in the road,
Unidentified,
Allows for us to take part,
To make our voice heard,
In the council of society,
So that future generations,
will know before its too late,
the troubles that lie ahead,
That instead of stumbling,
They will rise,
In the face of adversity,
They will admire,
Our one line poetic thoughts,
of centuries past,
They will not realize,
the time and effort,
for a word to spread,
across the globe,
Those words did not burn,
Like wildfire,
They were ironed out,
with a sword and shield,
The battles fought,
won or lost,
remembered or forgotten,
remain constant in our ever changing world,
That our ideas,
can not simply be changed,
and that freedom,
will not be morphed by the space bar and random keys,
No one likes bloodshed,
But its powerful,
It makes a statement,
when we cut off,
the tyrants fingers.
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