Skulls and Bones

It wasn’t the pain that changed us, Nor was it the injustice, It was the hate, so salty and strong So primitively racist So biblically wrong. Inside these fleshy walls of mine, Sits a red ball much like yours, Though mine isn’t rancid, or black Mine hasn’t been thieved by Lucifer Or Hades, or the skeletal figure; Shadows so black. Shackles and chains And batons, and hats, You are the men, Who nailed Jesus to the slats, Through his hands you hammered, T’was his heart that was scarred, His hands, did not bare Even a mark. He died for us all, He died for a cause You do not understand, So sit and smile As your star’s ripple high, Stand there and salute As your stripe’s bring you pride, But remember who dies Every time your rockets cry. And remember oh remember All those years ago How Mary cried, On Jerusalem dust, How dare you quip; ‘In God we trust’.