Does thy pen really write that which you hold as truth?
Or does it feed on bribery-such rotten fruit?
The stories, the pen weaves are all up to you,
forget not: of evils, money is the root.
The world has gone from bitter to bad,
and tomorrow lies on a sinister mind.
For the lives of friends-cry loud, be blinded.
Savage struggle for a few crumbs of bread;
Poverty hit! And man became wolves and sheep,
but shouldn't you think about it, of greater dread,
or have guilt, visit you while you're asleep?
Men of great stature will do all they can.
Court you to keep their names clean from smear.
But stick to the pen's oath, for the good of man,
and nothing can stop you, not even fear.
But if your pen lives to write the Big Lie,
be careful, Dear, what you're lulled to sleep by...
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