Below the glass ceiling of fear and doubt
At bright skies of promise I look fondly out
Wanting to soar with freedom’s eagles
Feet shackled by subtle ropes legal

Dispensed by a tunnel visioned defense attorney
Reveling in self righteous sanctimony
Perched atop the lovely steeple
Of the religious guise of we the people

When did we the people demand larger prisons
Or applaud the tsunami of prices risen
For luxuries as well as necessities
As they subtly mask the atrocities

Under what’s more profitable for the wealthy
As they study to make their profit margin healthy
While little if anything to the poor they’ll give
And proclaim pull yourselves up by your bootstraps and live

My bootstraps are being shipped oversea
To enhance big business profits indubitably
The only closure that seems acceptable nationally
Is foreclosure on every poor working family

And some choose to sleep by the gate
Pretending they did not see segregation’s hate
As it stormed the weak walls of complacency
While singing the old Beatles’s song let it be

So to those who say I should be grateful
Your segregationist view borders on the hateful
When the God I believe in has declared me free
Yet you still try to shackle me in economic slavery

H. Wilson