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Persona Non Grata

 By Jackie Quarterman, POW - 1998


Innocent until proven guilty is no longer true
It's guilty until convicted, once under the shoe


They instantly erase any previous good deeds
We're painted by them to be true demon seeds


As the Agent happily pointed the gun at my head
"Who's the real psycho here?" is all that I said


"Persona non grata", is what my lawyer said
You are no longer human; in fact, you are dead


Don't expect any favors, because none you'll receive
Far worse than a nightmare, they'll make you believe


Don't try to seek justice, you'll be punished far worse
The justice you believe in is the prosecutor's curse


The shackles are no different than the old stockade
A humiliation so demeaning, the memory won't fade


Not only do they smile at the family's they destroy
Pitting mother against child gives them ultimate joy


"If you want to go free, just give us your son"
"I'd rather be dead, just give me your gun"


The Nazi experiments have nothing on them
Far more covert, and surely as grim


The "War on Drugs" is a guise to control and confuse
It's a war against the rights that they want us to lose


As the losses mount up and the prisons continue to fill
I sickeningly wonder how much more blood they'll spill


By far, the most debilitating loss I'd personally face
Are the years stolen from my child, that I can't replace

And the indelible memory of the tears on his tortured face

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