Count to ten. Let’s begin again.
Never mind, we can’t, the time has already passed.
The march was clear as the day began.
Breeding violence with words and action.
Clamping down on all kinds of numbers.
Those who breach can’t reverse the high.
The impact was severe. The damage was done.
Count to one, let’s not do this again.
Remember, we don’t have to, a choice not realized.
The break was evident as night fell.
Pointing fingers with bullhorns and crutches.
Refusing to believe this was a lie.
Those who return can’t produce an apology.
The sentence was swift. The death was historical.