Take your shriveled little soul and retreat
to where you can feel comfortably under siege,
with esprit de corps because everyone
thinks like you: united in contempt
and hate for all those who don't,
and who therefore ruin the world.
I will join you,
whenever you poke your head out
with the rest of us,
here.
All your written-off friends, plus
everyone else who hasn't given up
on them.
I will miss you in the fight, but I hope
we'll embrace in the end. My shriveled
little soul
still likes to pretend.
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