Bigotry, the rooster cooed
Silently to his brooding bride
today's life was all he hoped
Till the sun rung another fight
This, the Orwell's 84
Truth is the lies which all say
The jury swayed and the guilty spared
What is conscience anyway
Invisibly shackled came a man
Frail, distraught with an empty stare
out of the pigsty called humanity
This the selfie of you and I
Of Smoke and mirrors and magic wands
Flashes to distract the magician's hands
Moves to veil the vileness of life
In a world were right might not be right
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