Our elders shoved in homes
to die forgotten and alone.
When pestilence blew across
from the east.
Our elders' suffocate in isolation,
an unwanted sacrifice.
Ignorant youth danced, drank,
and partied in the streets.
Madmen preach the recovery of dollars
for those who only gain from other's pain.
A knee on our neck,
a bullet in our back,
burn like fires in the west,
ravage like storms in the south.
Hatred I have heard on high
rewarding threats of violence.
Making heroes of any
that submit and follow blind.
Carry out acts of death.
Our elders wake
beyond the grave.
We let them
die in vain, and
certainly our judgment
comes when they reign.
David Huzzard Writes 