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Please Mr Nichols, come back inside the window.
I can't promise you anything but I trust there is far greater reason to live.
I know you've become disheartened and disillusioned with the current state of affairs.
Your stocks have fallen, your investments have failed you.
The man whom you took orders from has been ordered to jail by his and your subordinates.

You question 'what this world is coming to?'
What is the profit margin when you are forced to pay into the marginalized,
Wheres the glory you dreamt of as a child, dressed as a cowboy, your play gun pointed at real targets,
Your mother holding her tongue as your father consoles you with the words, "It's just boy's stuff."
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