it’s usual

Political Poetry by Steven W. Rouach

)Image by Sarah Lötscher from Pixabay)

withered
face ledge
you cannot fall

bigger than,
alienates the rest of them

colorless air-ducts are blocked and still

it’s usual
it’s over kill (and it’s over)
it’s usual (and it’s over)
it’s over kill (and it’s over)

heal thyself, can’t wait to see you’re the doctor now
sickens them with their indescribable ills
it’s over kill (and it’s over)
it’s usual (and it’s over)
it’s over kill (and it’s over)
it’s usual (and it’s over)

your left is turning slow,… cause they’re feeling the same way
and when your right’s involved your rights are stripped of weight
how have your arms gone soft when you’re rattling around in your cage?

reeling, locked up again
fleeting freedom again
as they wait to…
rise up again