In my bad dreams I see my son trapped
Tall within razor wire he lives silent.
Burnt out power transformers juice napped,
My daughter now carefully compliant.

Long forgotten fire, memories forbid.
Everywhere at dawn, lines are formed
And mothers do what they must for their kid.
Temptations to fear enforce the new norm.

Freedom became a foolish delusion,
Conform in silence or be sorrowful.
Your rights, a labyrinth of illusion,
Beneath posters of the great and powerful.

Still in those dreams I note the price of bread.
Stale remains the trade of belief for dread.


Floyd Alsbach