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Persona Non Grata
By Jackie Quarterman,
POW - 1998
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Innocent
until proven guilty is no longer true
It's guilty until convicted, once under the shoe
They
instantly erase any previous good deeds
We're painted by them to be true demon seeds
As
the Agent happily pointed the gun at my head
"Who's the real psycho here?" is all that I said
"Persona
non grata", is what my lawyer said
You are no longer human; in fact, you are dead
Don't
expect any favors, because none you'll receive
Far worse than a nightmare, they'll make you believe
Don't
try to seek justice, you'll be punished far worse
The justice you believe in is the prosecutor's curse
The
shackles are no different than the old stockade
A humiliation so demeaning, the memory won't fade
Not
only do they smile at the family's they destroy
Pitting mother against child gives them ultimate joy
"If
you want to go free, just give us your son"
"I'd rather be dead, just give me your gun"
The
Nazi experiments have nothing on them
Far more covert, and surely as grim
The
"War on Drugs" is a guise to control and confuse
It's a war against the rights that they want us to lose
As
the losses mount up and the prisons continue to fill
I sickeningly wonder how much more blood they'll spill
By
far, the most debilitating loss I'd personally face
Are the years stolen from my child, that I can't replace
And
the indelible memory of the tears on his tortured face
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