Proper Charlie

When we say

Je suis Charlie,

there’s a tragic truth

in its bite,

we must all fight

for the right

of arseholes

to talk shite.

That’s the price

of freedom.

Because without

intervention,

with tyranny

we’ll have

constipation;

ideas

stultify,

words choke,

and thoughts retract

into oblivion

But where

in this world

of cyber post

reaction,

are we free

to engage

in debate

and discussion?

Unobstructed

by spins,

unmolested

by djinns,

or manipulated

by twists, threats

and grenade pins

Until I wonder

who I am

when they speak

for me, and

do I sit

or stand

for a tune

played by

what band?

I have no time

for martyrs,

religious

or political.

Faith will not

feed me,

ideas

can’t save me

From an end

that’s unchanging,

no matter

class

or creed,

let it come

when the bell rings,

I won’t die,

to believe

So for the future

generations,

beware of all prophets,

spewing fast and false,

answers they’ll sell you

And you’ll pay the cost,

of believing

in the high wire

promise,

no levies,

to make us all

proper Charlies

Now we’re down to the wire,

the clock’s ticking fast,

it is time

to look inside

and decide

for yourselves,

if I breathe in revolution

will I exhale

freedom,

or evolution?