CEOver

 There is violence in the streets,

A man brought to his knees,

Snuck upon by a man unknown,

His hatred grown,

with silent retribution for his years of dissolution of the safety of the people in the name of endless greed.

The bottomless desire of the rich will know no end,

they know not when to stop,

They poke and prod,

They will not cease,

unless they’re reminded of their place.

back in the day the tyrants wore their wealth upon their sleeve,

Showed it off to all the peasants to make them all believe,

That God had chosen in his wisdom for these men to rule, gave them money, gave them power, gave them protection to be cruel.

But this facade of superiority could not hold long against the rage of women and men, who had nothing left to lose and took power in their hands.

Their anger and their sorrow turned to hatred and to violence, the only tool left to fight against their silence. They attacked, they beheaded and they put them in their place.

They put fear back in their hearts to make them all behave.

The rich, they learned their lesson and began hiding their wealth. Kept it private, kept it hidden and pretended to be human. 

But over time those parasites forgot again,

They started taking more and more, believing they were safe.

They push and poke 

and prod and joke, 

they deny our claims, 

silence our voices, 

they destroy our safety, 

they extract our worth, 

they break our bodies and prison our minds, 

they trap us in systems designed for them, 

they use and abuse and leave us without choices.

In a world like that it’s no surprise, that violent resistance is on the rise. It’s the language of those, who have been driven to the end of their rope. Their desperation needs an outlet, a way for them to cope.

Now murder is an ugly thing, no matter how deserved. It’s a desperate act of those who have no other way to turn. It’s not the greatest solution, but it’s the only thing some have.

The people have pleaded and begged, they wrote and they petitioned. 

They asked for change a million times. 

They marched the streets non-violently, and got beaten for their conviction. 

They exhausted all their option while their desperation grew. 

They have cried themselves to sleep begging for compassion.

But they ignored their pleas, in their boundless arrogance, they kept taking all they could, fearing no consequence.

So they needed an example, they needed to be shown. 

They are not greater than us, they just have all the wealth. 

Their money buys them influence, it lets them set the course. 

It lets them bend the fate of many to their will. 

They build the system to make sure they maintain control, their choices are sadistic.

They decide who gets to eat,

And who goes without,

Who gets the water,

And who gets drought,

Who gets to live inside a home,

And who dies on the street.

They slaughter millions without lifting a hand,

I guess that’s just statistics.

So when one of them gets shot in the back, it should be no surprise. That the people cheer and choose the man, who took action in his hands.

The death of one, can not fix all, I cannot pretend it will. There are many more, who’ll need to hit the floor to make a decent change.

The ghosts of kings, colonizers, oligarchs and robber barons alike. They need to be reminded of how fast it all can end.

Because when the possibilities for change have all been systematically undone,

There is no power greater than the barrel of a gun.