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   Concern
There are the few
Whose private gain
Means public loss.
But they sell us goods
And so tie our hands
And seal our mouths.

In an ever-shrinking world
They hide behind their banners.
And ignore the pressing question:
What on earth is happening?

How clear must a quandary be
Before this blindness is overcome?
As we disregard what we know in
Our heart of hearts is
Staring us in the face.