The year turns in the dark. Midnight will strike
and bitter is the chill; deep in our bones
is bitter colder anger. On our phones
we type out messages no one will like
'they clubbed us down' 'Raided, took her away'
'we cannot find him' 'helicopters flew
far out to sea'. We watch the things they do
and murmur - Do them in the light of day
no shame, and they forget the seasons turn
and spring is coming. We will shout aloud.
They break us one by one, but in a crowd
we'll stand. One day their mansion blocks will burn
and we will warm our hands, see by the light
of flames. Mourn, organize, assemble, fight.