Make Me!

originally posted on poetry.com prior to 2012.

You fear empty chairs-clouded spineless Man. 
your rattle irritates the ear; 
You play fearless again, I am a danger, 
you say, with pictures as proofs - 
and my taunts, I offend all wanting peace. 
But, Surely, you know, they want it 
only in their way. 
Your clouds of flightless land shadow me - 
not - Might I spit back in your face. 
"Step Down" with finger you threathen me - 
Ha! You cannot Make Me! 
I have all that I need through fear and 
contempt, for those without steel in their 
hands or their gut. "My people" you say - 
they are merely goats, herded and driven to 
do what I bid. 
For you actions... I only laugh! 
For you see (or maybe you don't), 
you cannot Make Me!