“Whose streets? Our streets!” the blue band chanted,
That rumbled through the streets,
Each oath of honor thus recanted—
Without donning white sheets.
The instrument of law becomes
An agent of oppression,
When every game is zero sums
And tortured each confession.
That “blue lives matter” they assert
And wail at photo ops,
But—casting blame and planting dirt—
Who can defend these cops?
The Rule of Law’s prerogative
Was once held by civilians,
Till their grasp slipped, enough to give
The fate of untold millions
Into the hands of wealthy men
(And women who support them),
Justice usurped by force, and then
Democracy’s post-mortem.
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