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| rita |
 Posted: Mon Aug 25, 2008 11:48 am |
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Joined: 28 Jun 2007
Posts: 162
Location: Arizona
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(PANT is "Partners Against Narcotics Trafficking," Prescott, Arizona's homegrown terrorist organization.)
It was May 23rd, by the dawn's early light;
PANT must have been watching and waiting all night.
Steve on the couch, and I in my bed,
Secure in my home, we had nothing to dread.
Six-thirty a.m., where else would we be --
We were both sound asleep, my friend and me,
When eleven brave men, with a crow bar they pried
Open my door and ran screaming inside.
One brave officer, the bravest of all,
Alone had the courage to run down the hall,
And attack an unarmed woman in bed;
Waking me up with a gun to my head.
Steve, I suppose, woke up quite a grouch;
It took ten of them to get him off the couch.
Cuffed to a chair, we were still half asleep;
Miranda was read by a black-shirted creep.
Questioned outside, while they ransacked my place;
Taken to jail, drug charges to face.
Steve for the pot they found in his pack;
Me for the meth, a ten-dollar sack.
Cigarette papers, lighters and fuel;
"Paraphernalia" -- these guys WERE cool!
I thought that I had the right to a trial --
Boy, did I miss THAT by a mile!
Public defenders -- "Plead guilty!" they cry,
"No way you can win; we won't even try."
What was accomplished, that morning in May?
How did it end, what was started that day?
One person in prison, one on probation;
A drop in the bucket for this great nation.
A nation once known as the "land of the free";
The world's largest jailer, it's now come to be.
Not just for those who use illegal drugs;
No one is safe from these gun-toting thugs.
With search warrants issued on hearsay alone,
And info they gather by tapping your phone,
They terrorize children, tear apart lives,
Separate families, husbands and wives.
If you value your freedom, while you still have the right
To speak as you please, please join the fight. -- STOP THE WAR
It should be noted that Steve was an incidental visitor to my home; under state law, the raiders had NO RIGHT to search his belongings. Because of prior convictions, he went to prison for the possession of one-half gram of marijuana and rolling papers which the raiders took from pouches of tobacco after dumping the tobacco on the floor.
It should also be noted that, in April, 2002, 13 months before they attacked me, this same gang of thugs broke into the home of my friend Shannon Allen and murdered him in the presence of his 3-year-old son. The killer cop didn't even get put on leave. |
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| weirdharold |
| Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2008 6:13 pm |
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Joined: 01 Nov 2006
Posts: 237
Location: Mississippi
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| One hell of a way to; "insure domestic tranquillity" |
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Harold W. Ard |
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