No Longer

At Gunpoint by Joseph Kreydt, 2024, pen and watercolor

No longer do we wake up cold,
Beside the beasts and creaking trees.
We rest in peace, tucked in the fold
Of state-inspected doors with locks and keys.

Now we are finally safe and free
From wasting time on baking bread
And chasing deer just to be fed.
No need to take a shot or watch them flee.

Whether he’s alive or dead,
Her gnawing teeth will have their fun,
So put a bullet in his head.
He used to chase, but now he’ll run.

No longer are we slaves to the sun.
No longer are we slaves to the sons.
No longer are we slaves to The Son.

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