Protest Song

Protest Song

Gun on the hip
Spray can in hand
They’re killing free speech
In the promised land

Cowards and blowhards
In Washington DC
They’re killing free speech
In the land of the free

Where is it going?
There’s no way of knowing
There’s an ill wind that’s blowing
Blowing no good

You talk about glory
You talk about valor
While kids in detention camps
Are living in squalor

Vultures are circling
The statue of liberty
They’re killing free speech
In the land of the free.

Miller and Bondi
Homan and Noem
There’s an ill wind that’s blowing
Blowing no good

That’s as far as I got, probably needs another verse, on the other hand it would be nice if there was no need for another verse.

Taking part in Open Link over at dverse

17 thoughts on “Protest Song

  1. Helen's avatarHelen

    There are not enough words in the English language to describe my reaction to your poem, the words. I would love to hear you sing them to the karaoke version of the music .. in fact I may just try. Thank you for the gift of this poem.

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  2. Sunra Rainz's avatarSunra Rainz

    I agree with Lisa above, that feeling of losing heart at the end is fitting. At the moment, there’s no end in sight. It’s also the perfect ending to the poem because that wind is still blowing and I’ve doubt there are plenty of ill revelations to come.

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