Contempt

Beneath the lacquer, between the lathe Laughs the con that gold drips from effort Not drained from the hours Of those on the scaffold Dragged to meet their fate And did it shine for you? Asbestos dreaming Blackened lungs Another empty week Tracing comfort in the stasis of a debt The trickle down of acid rain Contempt is the weapon sharpened since birth Contempt is the leveller laced in their truth Each shattered morning no colour or meaning In coke-drip shards and hollow leanings Cogs turn as intended with faceless abuse Behind the fiction lies a map of intent A triumph of vision in their hiss of suspicion The drum of strife and fractures in time Payments of shame, beleaguered and broken Behind the fiction lies a map of intent Contempt is the weapon sharpened since birth Contempt is the leveller laced in their truth Is this the house we really built Or just the ruin we're forced to bear? Peeled and scabbing Maimed at its foundations Kept together with compassion Endless toil and tears of hope held in the gut Our labour sold so short, the pain and loss Fed to the instruments of partition Blistered hands and splintered minds While walls of glass and steel rise; Gifted by the spoils of all our time So if this is to be the last call before the fences climb Dismantle their contempt because there will be no peace without violence Harness the anguish of our collective memory And fight with an open heart and sharpened mind