Читать книгу Periodic Poetry - Gregory J. McKenzie - Страница 14

At early dawn hard men with guns arrive

You wake alarmed as their ram they drive;

Into your door soon battered then torn back,

Booted men barging in with mud to track.

Shouts of anger then threats finally demands abound,

Your hearing struggles to unravel one sound.

The leading man towering then ordering you about,

Left wondering why they treat you like a lout.

To impress the cameras that follow with power,

Shielded officers with guns drawn often tower;

Over prone figures often still tuck up in bed,

Now under arrest your rights are loudly read.

When lawyers come to justly ask for bail,

The system once more is seen again to fail.