Twitterce4b7a2.jpgCompel me to swear to silence
And watch my lips defy your orders
Shall I feign nonchalance
Cause my voice may never be heard?

The powers call them Keepers
Vested with the armour to guard
Not just the inner streets
But the highways and far planes

With much grace and charm
They wield their rifles and arms
To scare the loathsome driver
If extreme, they shoot a bird in the sky

Without shame and conscience
They extend their left hand
To seal the deal with the driver
Who knows how sacred the hand is

They call them Keepers
Keepers! Of what? People? Or paper?
While I shall never shoot myself
I shall honour with disgust
These highway priests!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s