The Clone Poem by Amala Comer

A dark road lies ahead,
the journey taken once before,
a ticket to disaster,
memories of "the gang of four".

Jinping "thought"
words rise from the grave,
a madman in the making,
a madman ready made.

What sun can be seen,
through China's polluted skies,
what truth can be found
amongst the wealth of lies.

Freedom will not embrace
this vision of the past,
the body of the dead is laid to rest,
not forever last.