The Chicago Seven and Liberty
by Michael Doyle

The American soul was in desperate measure
Poisoned and depleted of blood and lost treasure
For the sake of a war that people didn't understand
Our republic's principles died for in a foreign land

The Vietnam draft and the taking of Martin's life
Added to our society's breakdown and strife
Dream or not, when you're dead you are dead
Or, at least that's what Bobby Seale loudly said

Overnight bags were packed and suited up for protest
The pressure cooker was broiling and would not relent
Violence was brewing in the name of non-conformity
The damage to be done would weigh on America enormously

There would be a storming of the hearts of the American people
Their restless minds no longer content under the steeple
Voices and temperatures rising at the bursting point of irate
There at the Democratic Convention, held in a police state

Rebels without a job crossed state lines to incite violence
There is little doubt of their petulant ill intents
The question was, what could or might be done
About those crossing the line where there was little to be won

At least not in the minds of a lawless, clueless some
Who wondered in their infused stupor half baked and gone
Only knowing that the Draft was a threat with certainty
And that they failed to see a threat to national security

The truth of the matters were not of significant relevance
The Left would be given its stage and its audience
Grown up values or not, there was the issue of free speech
And what is not indictable will remain out of reach

The whole world was watching America that fateful day
As we determined the breadth of what we could say
In the peaceful Zen of an encircled chicken's foot
The issues were as serious as the First Amendment puts

Is there, was there, will there always be
The freedom of speech and thought in our land of liberty
Some times there is a wealth of truth on both sides
I point this out with my unambiguous American pride

(c) October 17, 2020  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved