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TheOldBarn

When is it the time to pass off the progressive torch to a woman?

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We all know that Bernie didn't want to run for president. He thought that Warren was the one, but she didn't want to run, so Bernie took it upon himself because he thought he had to and he was right.

Bernie ran and in doing so he created the first real grass roots campaign in modern history and in doing so he became a true populist that made young and old think alike feeling that real change could

truly happen in the US, and that now was the time.

 

Warren or Bernie, now, they are both running for president. Both share the same goals, both I feel are progressives through and through, and I also feel as though both are pragmatic, sensing that either one will understand the constraints once they are elected, if either one will be, what matters most is that progressives win for once.

 

I don't care either way. I like them both. A woman would be great. I want someone who won't start a war. Someone who fights for the average person in numerous ways.

A on the list is fixing SS, fix it quick. Fix immigration first as well. Fix education, Fix healthcare, Fix climate change, Fix the death of democracy, fix the cemetery all the graveyards in them.

Fix the dead, to restore the living. All the sacrifice. Just do something quick, before she dies again.

 

you can sing like Tom Waits in the shower if you try. It's deep, it's heartfelt and almost jovial and it penetrates all that you think is left, right of center. Don't let her die. Never forget that she was your gal.

Tell us just when to stop, the last breath, everything has its price, we know, we understand as we watch her silhouette in the coffee shops we call Starbucks in the drive through, because people are too lazy to just park and walk, or take the bus or subway, or because there is no mass transit, they might opine 

 

 

 

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the milkman saved our family and then had an affair with the wife of the woman who lived next door back when I never could understand the first thing about being an adult.

Kids that we were, we surrounded the house so he could never come back to do what he did again. They divorced, we never saw them or the milkman. And we thought that was justice.

Hearsay, I just wrote the slant of poetic truth

 

 

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