By Scott Bailey © 2017

The secret passenger
Scampers around
Just looking for a snack
Innocent, unaware
Of the death that he carries

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Why aren’t we railing?
Why aren’t we mad?
Why do we sit in silence?
In apathy so sad.

Is the sickle blunted?
The hammer dropped and cracked?
Has the guillotine lost its edge?
Has liberty backtracked?​

The peasants have moved on
From field to factory to desk.
Is it beautiful progress
Or captivity grotesque

So day after day
after day after day.
We struggle and toil
No time to play.

We hand over our freedom
We hand over our cash.
While the fat cats sleep
on their growing stash.

Where is the spirit of liberty?
The hero in the square?
The lone horse trodden woman.
Defanged are those who care.