RANDOM JACK POETRY HOUR: POLICE STATE
American Gestapo
A secret agent of the state
That targets a minority
Enough to make us contemplate
The darkest page of history
They have money in their bank
Without constraint of oversight
They could buy a Sherman tank
And roll it down the street at night
No one wants them in their town
No one wants them in their city
They only take good people down
In a way that’s never pretty
They no longer have a place
In a land that’s free and just
If they vanished without a trace
Few would grieve or even cuss
For they’ve earned the scorn of all
Who hold our values in esteem
As they rise our virtue falls
We who hold on to the dream
Please believe us when we say
Your kind is never wanted here
Yours will never be our way
For we hold the promise dear
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