They can hang an innocent man They can gang an innocent man They can even walk away without a blemish For their crimes They can shoot an innocent man They can loot from every man They can even keep the proceeds Of their crimes They ignore all their disaster Pretend that they are still not masters Hell, the wheels are spinning faster With heirs rising to the throne Prophecy of our oppression Designed a legacy of obsession producing children of this disease To carry on Just like their daddies Carry on
See also: Kinda hate, a poem by Angela Bowden
Angela Bowden is a frequent contributor to the Nova Scotia Advocate. She is one of the talented writers selected for this year’s Alistair MacLeod Mentorship Program, offered by the Writers Federation of Nova Scotia. Angee’s voice has always been unique and vital, it’s only getting more so over time.
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Angela: I really admire this shorter piece. There is so much necessary being said.