Bowing to Bullets

Eyes to the ceiling,

Lips to the floor.

Bow to the bullets,

That pierce through your door.

Blood stains and violence.

No escape for the poor.

Nightmares slip into day,

Like sharks swimming ashore.

Resolutions, revolutions, relentlessly spinning around,

The vertigo forces your forehead to the ground.

Explosions of fury, but you can't hear a sound.

Flesh alone could never be taken by the pound.

They are watching, uploading, clicking, donating.

Rocks in the face of the enemies they are facing.

Dying of bigotry, possession of power, the thieving.

The world is on broken knees, hoping, shouting, begging for healing.

Eyes to the ceiling,

Lips to the floor.

We are all bowing to bullets,

That pierce through your door.