NERO

He spits his fire

Into the wind

And plays the victim

When it comes round again

Those around him

Call him a hero

While history

Will call him Nero

Who struck the match

Can we discern

But we know who stood by

And watched it burn

We joke it off

And say its nothing

As bullets fly

And insults sling

This is a time

To stay the course

Remember our principles

Lean on Source

A flag, a fist

And a bloody face

The hare may get the headlines

But the tortoise wins the race

COPYRIGHT TRISH BENDER

071524