The Value of Peaceful Protest

Power sits in grandeur all around a gleaming
Walnut table. Candy bowls are close at hand.
It's too far off to hear the shouting of the people
On the street, who march and carry protest signs.
It's too entrenched to care to hear. The disaffected
Have the right to demonstrate, and Power lets
Them, knowing that they'll leave at last,
Frustrated by their empty hands. Some may
Be back, but, each week, their numbers will
Grow smaller, and, in time, no one will come
At all. Power's seen this process run. It doesn't
Give it any thought, unless the protests gain
Momentum, and they start to pose a threat.
In that case, Power calls its minion, Force,
To go and break some heads.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 147 times
Written on 2018-12-17 at 17:37

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