In the Days of Reform

It seemed it never occurred to him
this could end everything of him,
he might have to go back, if allowed,
with odd luck.
He will lose the limbs yet intact, caged.
Insanity, cruelty, is not abnormal
to the likes of him,
it has been lurking in the narrow crack,
deep within, smoldering,
to step on the neck of others.
What hole in the system
have they overlooked to see
him, his kind, fit for the job?
Perpetrating over and over,
abusing power, unjust,
is this real?
Why are we helpless,
fearing when it will happen again,
lamenting,
ashamed for not undoing  the wrong,
tired perpetually?
Change! we shout, marching,
smile, as we go.
*

*Yes, you guessed it. I wrote this poem after the man died
in the conflict with the police officer. Then the protest
swept the nation.

©Byung A. Fallgren