Flower placed in the barrel

of a smoking gun;

terror on the face

of a stolen child.

Benevolence on the face

of the Argentinian,

dirt on the face

and blood on the ground.

Pain in the streets

and fear in the home.

Never look back, oh no,

never look back.

Tear at the skin, you're

faceless, locked in electrons

behind stolen guns.

Rite of passage, the

right of passage. Scare

all the people

as you march for


A boot feels the same

on the neck, whether

saviour or killer.