The prisons of the plights
we make our risings to,
the placid air turns frigid,
and the gleam of lights is ahead,
watching, waiting, aiming, firing,
the despair of the capture
and the hunt of the vigilante.
It is the dark night,
between the shadows
where the silence echoes
and wathces, waits, aims, fires.
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by Joanne Wood
I wonder if you'd still critique
If you knew what he'd done, until just last week.
The law is there to protect
Young or old
Gut sunk deep
Cut Knuckles
Bloody Baton
Tear gas
Mace
A swift kick to the groin
Stomp stomp stomp
Spit
Shark frenzy
Sorrounding chum
Someone
Taser
Serve, protect.
Bring tyrants to justice.
There's electricity in your hand
so you don't have to kill.
No blood, no harm.
by Bri Mark
'' God Help You If You Drive ''
I've burgled, raped and pillaged,
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the police don't try to
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Grown men enforcing the law,
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Poetry: Police brutality
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