Looters Steal the Message

The country's on fire Buildings ablaze A situation most dire Filmed through the haze. Protesters all shouting Passions inflamed Of their anger no doubting For the victim now named. They march with hands raised Indignant and loud Determined, unphased, To pressure unbowed. But the message is tainted The moment hijacked The vision now painted Of stores all ransacked. Looters in droves Their arms filled with goods From iPhones to clothes Their faces in hoods Frenzied they run Opportunity knocks Plate glass they shun With hammers and rocks. Men of no soul These rats of the night Not caring they stole What's pure and what's right. Sadness surrounds us Few places to turn So much to discuss While our cities now burn.