Memo To Mr Politician

You have built walls
Round your fortress
Maginot lines of defense
To shield your opulence.
You laugh at them.
The poor and down-stricken.
Nothing but tools to be used
Then dumped like tissues.
They chant free songs,
Through bars and wires
Their cries and pain,
Tear no holes in your skin
You soothe their wounds,
With religion and faith.
Trapping their thoughts
In hopeful hopelessness.
Severing their chains,
With ethnic jingos.
Mis-educating with education
Choreographed reality tv
They bow their heads,
But their anger stands.
Waiting for the tunes
From the flutes of anomie
The laws you built
Are sand castles at shore
The ocean of revolution
Laughs at you
Dark shadows lurk
By your bedside
Bastards orphaned by
The light you killed
Dance steps of rage
Held bound in broken cages
Reflections of their true self
Come alive in broken mirrors
Your power is an umbrella
To dark hurricanes fermenting afar.
Like the ants that gather grain.
In anticipation of the rain.
For pay day shall come
When the people’s anger
Shall be cashed and withdrawn
To buy your lives.
Soldiers would go on strike,
The police would take to flight
Even justice would be blind
When sorrow imprisons your smile
-It is just a matter of time.

FlyThings

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