Poem by William

At what point on the operating table 
Does a surgeon decide there is nothing left
No way to save a patient?

Is it when the hands, meant to protect
Strangle the life of the nation
And steal the food from mouths of babes?

Or when the long arm of the law
Sweeps across the country
In a visceral display of Injustice

Maybe it’s when the spines of our elected
Go slack, limp and lifeless
At every attempt to make progress.

The legs on which we stand
Collapsing from the weight
Of the inaction of our forefathers.

Each step, foot by foot
Marching in unison, dancing in tandem
With oppressors and conquerors.

For me, it was when the head of state
Decided that his people no longer were

When the blood of our country
Ran cold in the streets

We watch as the corpse of our democracy
Is puppeteered on a gold-gilded grand stage

There is no saving this body
We must move on to those who can be saved