Back under the spell
The tyranny of stupidity
Celebrated as the majority
We will answer for
Heeding the convict’s cajole
Scars will open back to wounds
To fester in fury
We will suffer
For allowing what we’re told
To become a flitting true
All the while willing
Away any view
It’s possibly untrue
A dark justice will
Befall
Those who chose
To let
Words spoken conspire
Our country
Began with the word—we
Making it
Flesh and bone heart and soul
The adjudicated
Will see to it flesh
Is debris
Bones crush, hearts are less
And souls end
In a hell predicated on being equal
And inclusive