Threat

I beg for you to hear me,

Excuse me sir, but I'm more than some broken, idled insecurity.
But dare you judge me. 

You'll rage on, your battles vary in severity,

Damn your cowardice imagination,
I wish to burn your opinions individually. 

Don't look at us like were the ones who do wrong, 

The voiceless, the wicked and the damned,

Pray you do them no harm, 

For the way you dare envision, a planet without scum, 

we are not scum, we are the ever-healing scabs.

We built our bridges and we burnt them down, 

We are so self destructive, by far. 

We are in every way a threat to you,

Damaged, but we don't stand alone, 

We rise, damn it, we rise up, 

Create a dirty, yet indestructible throne.

Loosen your tie and listen to me,

Don't look down on us, keep walking, I will wear this crown,
As the voice of the working class and the hurting,
Hard-working, honest, all year-round, 

And come the day you stop to judge us, 

I will beat you to the ground. 

Reviews

[Simon Welsh]

I love the evocative imagery and the tone of this poem. Nice job!