Surely now they’ll see sense,
Surely they wouldn’t elect
A criminal—
Not again.
Not after we saw the windows shatter,
Not after we saw the flags,
Not the ones we pledge allegiance to,
But the ones bearing his name,
Like a king, like a god,
Like a brand stamped on the foreheads of the faithful
Who stormed the Capitol in his name.

Surely now they’ll see sense,
Because I saw the officers crushed beneath the weight of it,
Heard the panic in their voices,
Felt the tremor in my chest
As the news anchor’s voice wavered—
“They’ve breached the chambers.”
And we watched democracy—
A thing we thought unshakable—
Stagger on its feet.

And when it was done,
When the dust settled
And the mob slinked home,
Proud and unrepentant,
They told us it wasn’t what we saw.
Told us it was a tour,
A misunderstanding,
A minor inconvenience to the Great Machine
That must move forward.

Surely now they’ll see sense.
Surely they’ll draw the line here.
But the line has long since been erased,
Washed away by a tide of power and fear.
Now the insurrectionists are not criminals—
They are patriots.
They are the ones who deserve pardon,
Who deserve second chances,
While the ones who told the truth
Face exile, death threats, and silence.

Surely now they’ll see sense.
Surely they wouldn’t let the man who set the fire
Walk free—
No, not just free—
Let him run the country again.
But I see the polls.
I hear the cheers at his rallies,
The promises—no, the threats.
“I am your retribution.”

And I wonder,
When did crime stop being crime?
When did democracy stop being sacred?
When did we become so numb
That a coup attempt
Becomes just another political talking point?

Surely now they’ll see sense.
Surely they will.
Won’t they?

But maybe we are past the point of sense,
Maybe what was once unthinkable
Has become inevitable.
And that—
That is the thought that keeps me awake.

Because we’ve seen this before.
History does not repeat,
But it hums a familiar tune,
And I am listening.

But I will not be silent.
I will not surrender to the numbness.
If they flood the zone with chaos,
I will hold fast to the truth.
If they rewrite the past,
I will carve the record into stone.
If they demand we kneel,
I will stand, even if my voice shakes.

Surely now they’ll see sense.
Or maybe they won’t.
But as long as I draw breath,
I will not stop fighting
For those who still can.
For the hungry, the poor and the tired,
Let us continue to stand.