Protests Poem by Kim Cresswell

Protesting,
Sure it's part of human opinion,
To voice the thoughts of a potential million,
A quiet and clean voicing is what we would respect,
But such things as this are never that perfect.

Protesting,
A group of people voicing what they think its right,
Can be about as dangerous as ultraviolet light,
It'll be fine one moment but then comes the next,
What started off simple, is now much more complex.

Protesting,
What was once heard lightly as controlled chanting,
Is now accompanied by police dogs panting,
The few folk that were there for the real reason,
Have been bombarded by those committing treason.

Protesting,
The quiet protest has been burnt in flames,
Now replaced by the teasing of games,
Madness has overcome the sweet and the kind,
Replaced by riots which will be maligned.

Riots,
Those have come who are rough and violent,
Taking advantage of those who were silent,
Here lies the grave of the timid protest,
Never to rise or finish, just lay at rest.

Riots,
The police force are out protecting the brave,
The stupidity is spreading like an unstoppable wave,
Theft and broken glass have overtaken the street,
Riots and violent behaviour should be obsolete.

Riots,
Things get worse before they get better,
My grandmother once told me in a handwritten letter,
People get hurt and lives become shattered,
Groups of friends and allies are scattered.

Riots,
Lives can be lost if the violence spreads,
We just have to get it into our pride-ridden heads,
That sometimes it's best to stay somewhat quiet,
And that way there will be no spark for a riot.

Peace,
A country that understands and communicates with people,
Is one that stands out higher than a church steeple,
So much for our Kingdom being United,
All those who fight for this should be knighted.

Perspective,
Look at all those who fight for this land,
Don't you just wish that everyone could understand,
That while they're out somewhere fighting for us,
We're safe at home creating all of this fuss.