The March

peace, brother, peace

When we marched against the war,
the street became our feet.
Could you hear us?
The crowds gathered in the music was loud.
People, curious, watched from the curbs as we passed them by like a Fourth of July Parade.
Whole Families smiled in the middle of the day
and boisterous children waved their hands like flags.

That afternoon we protested the war
all of a city came to a halt.
Old people, thinking that perhaps we were their children,
stopped by the corners and hoped and prayed.
Nothing like it for miles was heard.

That day we marched for peace, not war,
the police broke oput of their cars in a sweat.
In steel helmets they hid from us,
throwing down over their faces their guards.
Sirens gave birth to battalions and shouts.
We knew that eventually they'd come after us all.

That day we said NO WAR NO WAR
was the day we confronted our country, our land.
The police rushed in to hit us hard with their clubs
in order to protect us from our selves.
No voice above a sirens was heard
and the radios blared and the music was loud.

That day we marched crying out NO WAR
our hands threw up placards for peace, for Man.
Curiosity-seekers poured in from miles around.
The message got out on hurrying feet.
The russet of sunset was the sky.

The voice of authority railed with its stick.
The police rushed in to haul away children & moms.
The cops in their armor put off all their stars.
Their bodies like barracdes stood in the streets.
With resolve the officers went after us all.

That day we told our country that war was wrong
was the day the cops showed us to the waiting wagons of our fears.
They quickly escorted us to all of our cells and gave us bread and slaughter,
gave us to prisons fenced in by barbed wire to spare us war & terrror.

- Craig Teichen