the tarnished silver
the dust has settled.
cue the grieving
widows.
mothers.
friend.
the ammo spent, it should be raining.
you've thrown your bricks but,
they've sorely missed their marks.
is it really so
surprising?
you've grown fat on the dreams of those
you inspired.
in the ashes of the tyrant
you toppled.
in your haste you took the gold,
a golden heart is copper without music's silver
still you flaunt it with braggadacio.
a flamboyant fool wearing false pride of ignorance.
grievance your reward for revolt
shame for forgetting the dancing.