Human thing of laughing hollows, conspiracy and murder.
Your flesh colludes and separates, holds partisan to the air.
You killed that child who was a child of moments and no killer.
You killed that man who would have turned
And walked the other way.
You lay waste to that path.
And in place of spotless maybes and that silken evermore,
You leave the ravaged past to be a corpse and ring of heartache,
You forge the timid future that waits in anguish for your rape.
And in those cobbled streets you build, you leave both friends and enemies.
They freeze where you left them, in the futility of their conflict.
And we call out still for riot and we run in all directions.
We call out for fire and stampede and the sacrament of tear gas,
The transubstantiation that turns this artificial irritant
To the tears of all our honoured dead, the children who we were.
The parents that we will not be, the freedom that mocks us.
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