Gun pointed between your eyes;
Masked man with metal power;
Bad medicine, nefarious intent.
Like wasps in fiery defense,
Police swarm, yet no arrests;
The getaway car, long gone.
Months later, suspects on the bench,
Judged guilty, shackled and sent,
To a place where taxes pay rent.
Gangland, government sanctioned,
Where the bible is the money book;
Judges prejudiced by bribes, selling lies.
A congress of squabbling cronies,
A house of fortunes, ill spent,
Curators of disease, in the capital sense.
Egos fighting for their insatiable id,
Raining arrows of destruction,
On those misunderstood.
War, it seems, is inevitable,
When death is the only truth;
Still, hope for change, a brighter day.
In dire times, have faith;
When human justice fails,
Mother Nature runs her course.
Monday, February 23, 2009
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