POEM OF THE MONTH December 2021
 WHAT DAY WAS IT What day was it when ethics died? If anyone noticed, well, nobody cried. The season passed unseen, until the ones in control, the loudest voices of all, bellowed out their disenchantment hurriedly washing their dirty hands more hurriedly still stashing ill-gotten profits (taken off your back, friend, and mine) offshore and away from prying eyes. Who was watching these watchers, the thieves? Not you, friend. Not I. And that's why we may never know what day it was when ethics really died

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