children of the nodapoc gather round

		hi hello to all my friends!
		you are my friend and i'm your friend
		consider all your years lying dusty before you
		your dreams that lived in your sleep nodlike are now dead
		fear for the future
		a tiny child's glistening hand
		wet with a hundred a thousand
		a million years of tears
		she holds up a sheath of rosyred running poppies
		they're almost dancing silk like children
		a posy of pain
		a bouquet of boohoos and blobbing
		a cabbage wreath of cares
		a veritable batch of vague voices
		vapid echos from a vapid echo chamber
		of formless frightening fears
		not frail of feeble but ferocious
		full of filth
		seeing you already alas know all too well
		that this woe is not the whole picture
		for we live under a shadow
		or rather many shadows
		the bomb a mushroom grinning cloud
		scowl like an insane inane
		inanity and insanity
		Vietnam a cauldron in which the best of our youth die
		in the bloodtunnels
		and furtunnels of Ho Chi Minh
		the arms race at the Sovjet Union
		Americans and people from space
		struggle for control of the cosmos
		of life itself!
		TV and wireless with its sleazy saturation
		electronic rays of sickness
		sleaze and sex with a capital...ehh!
		there is another thousand things both you
		my friend and i
		both know we're thinking of at this moment
		why me?
		why you?!
		and what can i do about it?
		then hope comes from my wallet in the form of a photo and a wish
		that is what i want to share with you!
		thank you!
		
		is it all a lie?