these colors don't run, they say
don't tread on me, they say
heritage not hatred, they say
as the blood of our black american children
runs down the drain
and the necks of
muslim men are snapped in the street
and the backs of
hispanic women are broken in the fields
and how can it be "heritage, not hatred"
when the flag of your heritage
is the epitome of hatred?

They tried so hard to banish me
To eternal non-entity;
They resented my voice
They denied me a choice;
I had to be the type of soul
Adhering to their own goals.
The don’t care what we suffer
They speechify and don’t stutter.

They haven’t been secretive
About the way they’d have me live.
They bellow and bawl their mind
And little of it is anything kind.
They have no obvious compunction
Behind their every injunction.
They point and label me something odd,
Invoke a two thousand year-old god.

They drape themselves in our flag
And shout names like queer and ***
And tell us we are abominations
Not fit to live in Christian nations
But they forget that we all free
To choose what our religion will be.
In truth, they do not seem to care
About anyone’s opinion but theirs.

The hardest thing of all to bear
Is for all the venom they share
Is that this country has rules
That they ignore by being fools.
They want the right to tell us all
Who we can bring with us to the ball
And who we can love or marry.
What a heinous load for us to carry.

There may be nothing quite as egregious
As a congressman all sanctimonious
Who tells us we must not disparage
The sanctity of heterosexual marriage
Whether is his bride number three or four
That’s exactly what the Christianity is for
Because didn’t Jesus himself say
He didn’t want no homos today?

Guns and knives are for coward’s pens are for me, you can beat me down to a ****** pulp my bruises and my scars will fade weapon of words is all I need. My breath will lead you to a trail of darkness of the hall way broken lights from your weeping mind and your sinking heart falling to the abyss, a pain of fiery flames way beyond measure of your imagination begging with desperation for a different ending. My words will curse you haunt your dreams for all internally emotions of guilt and sins feed my starvation stomach those who will bow down before me. Like political peoples,  speakers, dictators, and of course presidents  who choose their words wisely with there lies in the air making  fools believe whatever they want them to hear, so who need guns and knives when words are the most powerful weapons in all of mankind.

**By Jacob Cuadro

Some people see personality
I just see criminality
What some call statesmanship
To me is not so hip.
There must be a different definition
In your version of the Constitution
But mine says we all are free
And not just those D.C.
And not just those Caucasians
Should be entitled to rations
Of respect and equality.
But we’re victims of duality
Without causality
Because our voice is nixed
Nothing gets fixed.
Nobody cares about the crooks
Until something of theirs gets took
Then they want to throw the book
Without a second look
At who it hits. It’s totally tragic
That so many believe in magic
Like somebody waves a wand
And all the thugs will be gone
From our leadership.
It’s a ****** trip
And a total rip
That they think someone cares.
But, nothing makes rich people scared
Unless someone else takes
One third of everything they make
Then they scream like banshees.
Meanwhile, down on our knees
We cry right across the board
But we are the blighted horde;
We never really scored.
We were just here to buy junk
And not listen to the bunk
The one-percent hurls our faces;
We live with the disgraces
And wish we could do something.
Wish we could do anything
To break this eternal ring
Of money meaning purity.
Yes, it is a homily
But it is practically
All there is.
Talk to the Wiz.
He’ll tell you it is crap.
It’s just a trap.

Micah The Mouse was a rat;
At least that’s how he behaved.
If he didn’t get his way every time
He’d holler and he’d rant and rave.
He got to be such a big mouse
That his head swelled up too.
He became so hugely obnoxious
Other mice didn’t know what to do.

They held a spontaneous election.
They needed to elect a top mouse.
Micah bribed the weaker leaders
So, Micah got the run of the house.
He kept up his pattern of bribery
And threatening those in his way.
Without anything like scruples
He’s still on the throne to this day

Micah The Mouse takes with both hands
And it’s too bad if anyone disagrees.
Those who think he cares about complaints
Will spend a lot of time on their knees.

In Micah got horrendously fat
By overeating just a tiny smidge.
He got to be so much like a big rat
He grew too heavy to cross the bridge.
So he roared and ranted and raved.
And blamed everybody around him.
That he was the cause of his problems
Seemed to completely astound him.

The wonder in all of this sad story
Is why the other mice could not see
That Micah was only in it for himself
And not for members of the citizenry.
Micah got to eat while others starved.
He got what he wanted, moved on
Yet somehow those that elected him
Never quite seemed to catch on.

Micah The Mouse takes with both hands
And it’s too bad if anyone disagrees.
Those who think he cares about complaints
Will spend a lot of time on their knees.

(Image from www.sharktacos.com)

Blood on the street;
The man who cast the first stone
was discharged and acquainted
While passersby were jailed

Cabal in the chambers;
Making treacherous remarks
Lady Justitia is not only shortsighted
The silence of her treachery is deafening

Customise looting spree;
Men of means are pardon of their sins
While men of straw burn in hell
A cleansing ritual to appease angry gods

Two mad men fighting without cause
One is protected with immunity clause