if you do not speak when children are torn from their parents and caged like animals when will you speak will you cry out above the wailings of thousands of loved ones mourning senseless deaths caused by incompetence if not then when will you speak will you denounce the rancid words of traitors to this nation and its constitution with righteous indignation and honest condemnation if not then when will you speak will you order without delay those who enter the chambers of freedom screaming venomous mantras of hate and ignorance is it then that you will speak harsh words demanding their departure from those hallowed halls if not then when will you speak perhaps you’ll hold your voice until your body is dragged by those same rebels to a makeshift gallows outside the capital steps your hands and mouth bound and your body wrapped in some confederate flag is it then that you’ll scream to be heard above the hideous mob co-conspirators that you would not speak of and to before now but now how will you speak with your hands posed across your chest
caged lambs wool soaked with urine from the holding pens shivering frightened grasping for one breath of the promised freedom from oppression not this slaughter house of innocent souls but now it’s lights out at the border detention center
pastors of god’s new light support mr trump and his disciple senators his disciples are capturing people taking them to the church of blind obedience and massacring them during animated religious rituals in the senate their dismembered bodies can be found along the border on battlefields on city streets or in veterans’ hospitals though some concerned citizens have become alarmed the blood still flows unabated so far the only shields offered have been words like these that have yet to stop one child from dying with no parent to ease their passing
wrapped in such bright foil and moving you might wonder whose christmas gifts these are shall i tell you these are for despair small government orphaned children nestled all snug in their thermal blankets on cold border floors while visions of their parents dance in their heads as they face another day of dread
standing in a line outside the old town free clinic was the brown bag prophet who said i’m here to get my yearly flu shot don’t want to join the 61 thousand that died last year in the states guess i’m luckier than some folks like those children detained at our southern border seems us customs and border protection have decided not to give influenza vaccine to migrant children in their care that should free up some bucks for the lump’s wall
eyes move slowly concealing fear heavy boots drug like bodies across cold concrete floors are seen from beneath thin thermal sheets heart beats racing chasing shallow breaths dried tears cling like arms around a parent’s waist are the only trace of moments best forgotten this cannot be the dream the dream shared by so many before leaving for freedom this cannot be este no puede ser el sueño
the small ruminants are lined up on cold concrete floors use of knives has been prohibited there’d be a risk of noticeable skin damage but there will be no escape nor mercy the holding pen’s filth will soon be washed away but for now a child lies unbathed curled in fear for some a child of god for others a filthy beast no better than lambs for the slaughter i wonder what do you see and believe
