Tuesday, December 13, 2011

On the stage they stand, like statues waiting for the world to end.
The crowd walks in and sees the make up, and thinks it's make up.
They see the tricks, and think they're tricks.
They see a shot ring out from what they think is a toy gun and someone dies, again.

And as I leave, one of them presses a note into my hand.
"It's not pretend. It's all real. Please help me."

I've read it.

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