This one has attracted a vast range of varying coments, from "awsome and thought provoking" to
"Juvenile untalented steriotypical rubbish"
So what do you think, is worthy of polishing or binning?
They came to your village
to burn your witches.
Not one word in defence,
did you manage to say.
They took your eccentrics
and locked them in cages.
You averted your eye's
as they dragged them away.
They labeled your children
as problem delinquents.
For having the courage
to just disagree.
Then took them to purpose built
buildings of learning,
where they rendered them harmless,
then set them free.
As mindless, voiceless, faceless no ones
Dumped in the rabble of weak
Who when faced with lifes injustices,
were too afraid to speak.
Some birth instilled, with mortal a fear,
of ever standing out,
of admitting to having a single voice,
of daring to learn to shout.
Shuffling onwards from day to day,
merging with the crowd.
Thier voices low and whispersome,
thier heads eternally bowed
So take your place among them now
and if it should occur,
that someone points a finger at you
and says "I think its her".
Because she is looks abnormally tall
and her skin is far too pale,
her eyes are set too deep
and she bears the Devils mark,
speaks a different language,
or tells a different tale,
giggles when she breaks the rhyme,
Dances in the dark.
Evidence ... "vague and flimsey".
yet we know what verdict we'll see,
for the power of "THEM" is awsome.
they decide what the outcome will be.
They'll invent for you a persona,
of "DAMAGED" and "CANNOT BE HEALED".
Once the masses are told that their better than you,
your fate is decided and sealed.
You understand their power,
in the blinking of an eye.
as they pronounce you guilty of "not fitting in"
and prove your defence, a lie.
From within you find your voice,
Accepting...what its for.
Then ironic saddness raises its head
as your shouts make you stand out more.
protesting, screaming, hysterically,
while watching your fate pan out.
Beads of sweat appear on your brow,
as the eyes of your friends fill with doubt
and you watch the whispers encircle the group.
See loyalty ... start to sway,
as each of your trusted, avert their eyes
and look the other way.
Each searching for justification,
to help them harness the guilt.
Each giving their pride as a sacrifice,
to this civilised world they've built.
As for you, in this, your final hour ...
you deserve no axe to grind.
For you walked that walk in the very same shoes,
when the Witches and Madmen were tried.
but a thought invaded my concious mind,
once you'd snatched your final breath.
I think your spirit put it there,
as it left this place of death.
It spoke with a quiet confident voice
as it passed the knowledge on,
It said "To shout your message loud",
and sing your protest song,
Has its place in the furtherment of
of this, the human race.
But many who instigate awsome change,
never show their face.
What evolution requires of us
is to share the truths we've found
and without any discrimination,
share the knowledge around.
So I, with my voice low and whispersome.
Without need to stand out, or be loud,
will share the facts with all I can.
As I mingle, unseen, in the crowd