On The Beat

Dancing to the tune of a new beat.
Not drums, but bodies struck by blue heat.
Media sits up and listens
As blood glistens
On white flesh
In the Met’s mess.
Middle classes scared they could be next,
With a truncheon busting on the back of their necks.
“If you got nothing to hide, then nothing to fear,”
The years of pale words that reached oppressed ears.
And now the classes whose demand fed slavery,
Display the reality of cowardice and not bravery.
I didn’t see them caring when figures were published,
“Ethnic minorities” stopped 6 times more in the name of justice.
That’s 6 times more confrontations with the beast.
6 times more chance of joining the feast
Of 600 annual deaths in custody.
No cameras. No visibility.
And laws just passed ban photography of the police.
A gang in uniform patrolling the streets.
Daily we’re photographed 300 times.
Return the favour, it’s a 10 year crime.
Yet an autopsy was reviewed
Only after video was viewed.
Officials back track while self-protecting, 
Like Groundhog day on a Brazilian shooting.
A few bad apples in the words of the law.
Seems to me, it’s rotten to the core.