Rubber Bullets

There's looting. There's shooting. Rubber bullets flying through the air like fighter planes whirling in combat. The bullets are harmless, they say Because the raw metal is not exposed, But the wounds are real. The pain is real. The violence is real. Rubber bullets are just naked little weapons Covered in a shield of rough rubber Meant to protect rather than to harm. Just like those blanketed missiles, Deep-rooted wounds that harm Our compatriots are dismissed. The wounds are not real. Only silence will heal them, they say, But silence leaves scars.