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John Hopkins's avatar

I've already posted, but I feel compelled to post this poem:

Because in the end,

The fraudster will fraud,

the criminal will convict;

he will shun the margins

and ignore the sick.

He will give to the rich

and deceive the poor,

say God loves you

and knock down your door.

He will shout to deceive until you believe

The insidious song the Sirens sing.

Oh! Where is our Isaiah?

Where is our Nathan?

Who is the one to speak truth to a king?

John Hopkins's avatar

Thank you, Rev. Cameron. You're right, there's just so much going on right now. A friend of mine and I love dystopian fiction, and we both agree the country seems swamped in political dystopia. And yes, many of us -- myself included -- are benumbed, palled, in a subtle depression. Oh, dear Lord, send your prophets! Rev. Cameron, you are one of them.

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