Anarchists

I call on you, oh common man, of whom I often wrote,

A dragon rears its ugly head, and off it must be smote.

Raise no banners of promise void,

And follow no leaders of nations.

For these "builders" have only destroyed,

And break up our rights into rations.

So look for a place where a child's tears

Speak of horrors and of terrible fears

That no child should have to know.

Search out this place where evil reigns;

Find it out and go

There through kindness, make some gains,

There through love, heal the wounds,

There through strength drive off hell's hounds,

There sow hope; there reap peace,

There bring victory at last.

There teach the oppressed to cut the leash

That holds them to the past.

I wrote this almost 30 years ago in high school. Not my best, but not bad for a 17-year-old. Anyway, came to mind recently.