We Sleep Below The Bridges

Red collars

blue backs

and the ballot soon to fall will

forget the men who sleep.

It will forget the  silent women.

They will remain unmoved.

Obscured in leisure,

bound in labor

or lost in the howling winds

that sweep below the bridges.

They are preserved in carnality

and caged by capital.

The hoof or the red beast

will not move them and

the ballots of the few

will fall upon those bridges

like another hard rain.

Flood.

Prey they stay unmoved for

hell united will spill

from their broken cage

and the world outside

tomorrows  window will never

Look as safe

as it looks today

for the red collars

for the blue backs,

ushered by the bankers hand.

Fear reclaims freedoms home.

© 2012