Roll Over, Tickle our Bellies, and Play Dead

We are now the Empire
We were always the Empire to the rest of the world
The ones dropping bombs from the stratosphere
Or remotely piloting missiles through the windows of mud huts
Destroying countries to save them
But now we are at the sharp end of our own pointed stick
We are the ones kicking down doors
Bundling dissidents into unmarked vans
And keeping secret prisons

At times it’s felt like half our society was predicated on protecting ourselves from tyranny
Our culture wars ignited by the need to give our government pause
Don’t tread on me because I bite back
Allowing our children to die
So we could arm ourselves for freedom

But then tyranny came in the middle of the night
With a no-knock warrant,
or no warrant at all,
or to the wrong house,
or after the bad guys had moved out
“Everything would be okay as long as we just complied”
How can we stand our ground when we have no ground to stand on

Or be shot with our hands in the air
Or be shot lying on the ground
Or be shot because of the color of our skin
Or be shot because of a disability
Or be shot because we think differently
Or be shot with a pan of water in our hands
Or be shot because we know our rights
Or be shot because we are scared

Roll over, tickle our bellies, and play dead,

It’s just a few bad apples
We were told
But that’s the point
The bad apples infect the rest of the barrel
Turning the barrel rotten
That’s how the analogy works

So when the tyrants want a secret police force
They have one already on ICE
With cooperation from what is an occupying army in all but name
Living out their wet dream
Power without accountability
Buying the tacticool leftovers
From our foreign adventures in tyranny
When the only tool you have is a hammer
Every issue looks like a nail

Where are all the resignations
from those that are supposed to protect and serve?

Where are all the armed militia
being necessary to the security of a free State?

Where are all the freedom loving zealots
Living in fear of a time of government overreach?

They are cheering from the sidelines
Because it was never about protecting and serving
Just like it was never about protection from the government

Roll over, tickle our bellies, and play dead,

When does resistance become revolution?
When we recognize the tyranny both without and within
When we stop making movies about our men with guns
That are outnumbered and outgunned
By poor people whose land we have invaded
and who live in mud huts
When we stop watching TV shows about cops with hearts of gold
who bend the rules to see that justice is served
Bending the rules gets innocent people shot
and convicted of crimes they did not commit

When does resistance become revolution?
When we recognize that we have been in this mess for a while now
That the want for change is real and anyone who offers it will find an audience
Even a lunatic reality TV star

Roll over, tickle our bellies, and play dead,
Or maybe, just maybe, We may bite.

_{Image from Pixabay}