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
Stopdraggingthepanda 
I have to agree we don’t want more verses, but will probably need them.
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Yes, indeed!
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Powerful words
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Thank you Marja!
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I feel so sad… but what’s comforting is that they do it in such a blunt and stupid way so they have to loose…
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That’s the hope!
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A powerful protest song, Jim. Now we need a tune and plenty of voices to sing it.
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Thanks Kim, a tune might be in the works!
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I look forward to it!
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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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Thank you for generous comment Helen and I would love to hear you sing the song! My voice is not the best, or so I have been told!
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JIM, the lyrical flow belies its toxic content. I understand about losing heart at the end.
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Thanks for Reading Lisa!
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You are welcome, JIM. Just wish the need for such poems would go away.
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Lisa – I got to the part in Feeding Ghosts last night where Tessa reads something that changes her direction entirely. This poem reminds me of that.
I think the line is something like ‘Freedom means not being needed anywhere’ – taken from ‘O Pioneers!’
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Shaun, thanks for the update on your reading. Not being needed is complicated for me. OTOH I know I did my job well enough. OTOH not being needed is a lonely place when one has been a “fixer” all of their lives.
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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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Thanks dropping by Sunra!
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You’re welcome, Jim! Lovely to have you drop by my blog too 🙂
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Nice write Jim 👏
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