Hey, Chicago. I’ve got a fight to pick with you. 

You let your people parade around like idiot bafoons who don’t care for other people’s needs or cares. 

They smoke on the train not carrying if about second hand smoke. 

They don’t have the common sense to show character to people who put them in a colony of their own, 

Yet should they want to be equal. 

There’s more you can do. 

You have an eye on everything. 

Your electronic eyes are every where, 

They record everything. 

But you only wait until it’s too late. 

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