There are the silent ones
Gone vestiges of a past era
The dreamers who never woke
And remain lost in some other nightmare.
There are the revolutionists
Screaming at the heart of humanity
Sighing in the black lights
Dead candlesticks on the ground lay broken.
We screamed of war
And prayed for peace
And our brains fell to clubs
And Chicago bled for years afterward
Black fists raised in defiance
White fists wrote words and songs
Rifles of soldiers bore flowers
No bullets to come out of those barrels.
Now those fist raise
In the empty halls of justice
But for whom I wonder
Certainly not for the silent ones still screaming.