The Hostage

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For god's sake men stop your prating.
I'm sick with all this useless waiting.
I've sat like a mouse as the fat cat played.
He watched me run,
Then fired his gun.
I've waited in these fear filled nights,
The days are dark, the flares our lights.
Do you think what you say will be any use?
Do you really think he'll let me loose?

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