The words glide smoothly from their lips,
no change in tone or conversation,
the entitlement drips from them
like boiling tar, a distaste for the very ideas
they planted and tentatively nourished.

Yes, never will their doorstep
be darkened by the poison seeds
they scattered across the homes
and estates they believed would
be the only ones affected; a chance
to stare downwards with a deplorable glee.

A high precision shot, which has now
backfired, and left buckshot in their backs
and pockets, an ultimate betrayal,
that dragged them down to our level,
yet we never deemed them equal.

Jonathan Butcher is a poet based in Sheffield, England. He has had poems appear in various print and online publications including The Morning Star, Mad Swirl, Drunk Monkeys, The Abyss, Cajun Mutt Press and others. His fourth chapbook, Turpentine, was published by Alien Buddha Press. He is also the editor of online poetry journal Fixator Press. Read other articles by Jonathan.