Barricades Poem by Mason Maestro

When the soldiers and civilians draw down
On each other at noon
In the cold crisp air of the city they loom
Will you stand by as a passive spectator
Will you discreetly withdraw
Will you jump the barricades and take to the hills
Will you stand up while the lion within wills

Could be London, could be the Hamptons
Could be Christchurch, or it could be Southampton
Could be Helsinki, could be Bombay
Could be L.A., and it could be Taipei
Could be Hamburg, and it could be Pittsburgh
Could be Warsaw soon facing martial law
When they overrun society
Next stage invasion of notoriety
Flag of terror waves in the air
Suspects we stand inside the snare

Could be your uncle and it could be your mother
Could be your godson, could be your brother
Could be a cabby, could be a Turk
Could be a migrant out looking for work
Could be a beggar, could be the Saudi prince
Could be that Iraqi vet who always squints
Could be a player, could be a fighter
Could be a heavyweight or something lighter
Could be the boxing champ, could be the loser
Could be the boozer, the domestic abuser
Could be a smuggler, could be a thief
Could be un chef aux aperitif
Could be the intern for the neurologist
Could be fanatic, but clearly a terrorist
In the tragedy we are the antagonists

Never an end to the cat and mouse
The War on Terror is brought to your house
It could be the clay or it could be the sand
Could be desert or tract of arable land
Even on lawn, the line will be drawn
It’s the people’s to hold, young and old
And those Barricades fold with freedom won