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.
Copyright © Dr. Robert Ippaso | Year Posted 2020
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