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