When they ask you what happened,
Tell them the sun rose in the early June skies,
and awakened a sovereign conscience.
The corridors of power now resided in the streets,
as the history of this age bore witness to change,
ushered in by the call of a generation.
Hands were dirty but slates remained clean.
Men with three arms rode on borrowed hubris,
and couldn’t get off their high horses.
While the Heroes and Heroines charged relentlessly,
setting ablaze the seats of the scornful,
breaching iron curtains,
relinquishing the oldness of the letter,
scraping scrolls of punishments and
raising banners of patriotic sentiments;
Caricatures came to life and personified,
caskets of class systems.
The mace was in the hands of the people,
Jonathan’s robe was bequeathed to David.
Power and Authority were restored!
And Poetic Justice was served!
The writings of this day,
will never leave the walls of their hearts.