Herded Poem by Theorem The Truth Serum

Ah the Beatles, such a great band.
Music from a time that we have to repeat, I guess.
There is protesting on the streets with steaming potholes.
Tents are pitched like an Indian tribe.
Minds are furious symphonies of thoughts.
Anger pours in like homeward bound traffic.
We all just want to be home and our home is burning.
Our dollars are rolls of toilet paper soiled by the dust
from the empty safes in Fort Knox.
It was herded away like the intelligence of our citizens.
The government is the shepard of our lawless minds.
They are the billy clubs slamming our backs
and the boot tips kicking our ribs in.
Can't you see it?