THUMPING

 

 

 

 

You shove him to the ground

Like he's bitumen to be used.

You butt him with the gun

Like he's a criminal of the worst kind.

 

You pound on him with heavy boots

Like he's a culprit of mob justice.

You spit on him ferociously

Like he stinks like skunk.

 

Secret cameras are watching you

And recording your deeds.

The international court awaits you

For this is abuse to innocent demonstrator

 

Who totally bears no arms

And just wants justice meted out to all equally

And his other cries heard and fulfilled.

When he bleeds, don’t you feel aghast?

 

When he writhes in pain, don’t you feel empathy?

When he dies, don’t you feel remorseful?

He’s one of you except he’s powerless,

But he has reasons to change your ilk.

 

Ignoring him isn't such a good idea

For his noise will not give you peace.