We The People

There was shouting and screaming
in the streets of her mind.
She half knew the voices weren't real
but couldn't be sure.
Feet in boots made for stomping the weak underfoot
stormed past her
as the pavements shook
and street lamps flickered
then died.
Tired
of trying to light that which
preferred the darkness.

Rioting went on all night
and all day
only stopping
when there were no more windows to smash
no more outsiders
to stone.

Then the laces of the boots were undone
and the boots themselves
abandoned.
Redundant now that life had returned to normal.
And violence had been squeezed back in the cupboard
wedged between the sugar
and the tea bags.

“We the people”
she heard them say
“We the people
the real people
will not tolerate......”

She strained her ears
But missed hearing the rest
For the doctors had come.
Both of them,
In their ice cream coloured coats
and liquorice black shoes
They had come to take her away

Away from the noise and the struggling
Away from the chaos and the boots that were moving again.
Away from everything she had become.
Since it had happened.

Since it had really happened.