The E Files

 

Raise a finger to your lips; 

The list grows long, 

The evidence is strong; 

These papers of red,

Ordered so many dead. 

An island shaped cave, 

Became innocences’ grave. 

a thousand mouths gagged 

While the men in suits bragged. 

Such terrible scars on tender skin

On the broken flesh and the soul within. 

A gentleman’s game, not child’s play, 

A thousand voices silenced without getting a say. 

And who holds all the cards today? 

Certainly not those girls of decay. 

A parody of justice and a thousand redactions. 

What else to do but sing a song and pray?