One Oh Eight

In the Summer light, you look over the poor, huddled by the security line, it's hot for the season, sons and daughters, share the same freedom, out on the dusty side, a bitter truth’s born, don't need an inquiry, to walk up the gully, lights over the border, sick of being, worry about time, if you'll be caught, in some policy drive, it gives a reason, to head for the slaughter, like a guilty plea, every walk of life, ends here comported, some bring their family, there's only one door.