When all of the pleading and kneading is over,
After the bleeding is finally
stopped,
Will we be feeding on fodder
from yesteryear?
Will we be heeding the
soothsayer’s song?
Who will be leading and
lighting the torches?
Seeding our thoughts through
the torturous times?
Reading the headlines in
horrible hopelessness?
Weeding out suspects who
stand in the way?
I stand in horror watching
the spectacle.
I stand in fear as it touches
my walk.
I stand defiant, defending my
doorstep from
Goose-stepping Cretins who
crash through the night.
Arrest, if you must, this
pitiful visage.
Arrest, if you dare, this
intolerable toad.
Arrest if you think me a
threat to your manhood,
But you will never arrest my
soul.
There will be judgment.
There will be justice.
There will be reckonings all
have to face.
Patience be teacher,
Watchdog to freedom,
Standing in front at the end
of the race.
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