Riots

The people can be pushed too far,
Through injustice or lies,
Then the riots start,
A rondo of burned cars and shattered glass,
A masquerade ball of balaclavas,
The bubble always bursts,

Insidiously sometimes,
Tension building bit by bit,
Like a clot travelling betwixt organs,
Other times all at once,
A human tidal wave in the throes of rancor,
A tsunami of Molotov’s and stones,

There may be a just reason,
A motive of rebellion,
Or there may not,
Chaos for its own sake,
The streets feel the wrath regardless,
The ruin is the same.